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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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Not Enough

has anyone else just wanted Danny to go completely fucking feral at Dash? anyone?

yeah me too

this is some truly self-indulgent shit y'all

"Hey Fenton!"

Danny slammed his locker shut, sighing as Dash clapped him roughly on the shoulder.

"I'm throwin' a huge ass Halloween party this weekend, ghosts are all about Halloween right? You should totally come!"

It wasn't the first party Danny had been invited to since being outed as Phantom, but somehow Dash didn't seem to get the hint that he wasn't even remotely interested.

"No." Danny snapped, he threw his bag over his shoulder and turned his back on Dash, walking away without another word.

"What's your problem?"

Danny stopped, turning back around with a face of utter disdain.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been trying to be nice, but all you do is just brush me off! Like you can't even pretend to be busy or something?"

Danny stared, mouth halfway open as he tried to find the words to respond.

"Are you actually serious?" he finally choked out, almost too bewildered to be angry.

Almost.

"You're not still mad about all that stuff from before right?" Dash asked. "Like, I don't even do that shit anymore, it's over."

"Is it?" Danny's eyes flashed brightly and Dash took a half step back as the air went cold. "Because I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday that I pulled Mikey out of his locker."

"Well, yeah but that was Mikey." Dash laughed. "C'mon man, I wouldn't do that to you. We're totally cool now, so why you gotta keep blowing me off? You talk to Kwan like it's not big deal, and he used to wail on you all the time!"

Danny took a deep, slow breath, then another.

"Have you considered that maybe it's because I don't like you?" Danny said through gritted teeth.

Dash huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the ground.

"Look, I get it, I was a jerk, but it's over! I'm actually trying to be nice, now you're the one being an asshole."

Danny looked as though he'd been slapped.

"You're such a fucking idiot Dash." Said Danny, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You can't just treat someone like shit every single day for two years and then expect them to get over it because you invited them to a few parties."

"Then how come Kwan gets to hang out with you?" Dash could feel his face heating up. "You're just gonna let him off the hook? That's not fair!"

"HE APOLOGISED!"

In one thunderous moment, every locker in the hallway slammed open, sending papers and books flying across the floor. The few students still packing up their things got the fuck out of dodge, whether this was a ghost thing or a Fenton thing (was there even a difference at this point?) they wanted no part of it.

Dash couldn't move, his feet felt heavy, he wasn't entirely sure if Danny had done something to him with his ghost powers, or if he was just afraid.

Because he was certainly afraid.

Even after everyone found out, Danny still didn't use his powers at school unless it was a ghost emergency. He didn't use them for pranks, didn't use them to get even, didn't even use them to show off.

But he was sure as hell using them now, and Dash suddenly realised why he was always holding himself back.

He was terrifying.

Danny took a few steps forward, stopping barely an arm's length away from where Dash was rooted to the spot, trembling.

"Kwan apologised to me." He said, quietly this time. "He apologised to my friends, he even apologised to some other kids, and when I told him that I wasn't ready to forgive him, he accepted that and left me alone until I was ready to talk to him again."

Dash wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to make his brain form the words he needed, it was too busy buzzing with danger run danger get out run run RUN.

"You made every single day of my life miserable for two whole fucking years, and that isn't even counting the bullshit you pulled in middle school. How do you feel right now Dash? Does it scare you to be around me? Does it scare you to be at the mercy of someone that you know damn well can hurt you?" Danny leant in, grabbing a fistful of letterman jacket. "I hope it does, because now maybe you'll have an idea what it was like for me going to school every fucking day knowing that you would be there, ready and waiting to hurt me. Every single FUCKING day."

Dash found himself being thrown backwards, his feet finally able to move again as he caught himself.

"I'm s-sor-sorry." he mumbled, his lips felt numb and tingly and his head swam with panic as he struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Danny's voice cracked, his face wasn't twisted in rage anymore, his eyes were blue once again, and shining with tears. "Are you really sorry for hurting me? Or are you just sorry that the guy you were beating the shit out of turned out to be Phantom?"

"I didn't... I didn't know." Dash gasped out, he could barely hear his own words, all he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears as he struggled to draw in breath. "I didn't know it was like that, I just thought-"

Thought what? What had he thought? That he wasn't really hurting anyone? That it wasn't that big a deal?

No, he hadn't thought that, because he hadn't thought at all.

"And you're gonna stand here and tell me I'm an asshole." Danny was almost sobbing as he raggedly spat out each word. "Because I won't forgive you for something you never even apologised for. This is the first time you even acknowledged that you were an absolute jerk to me, and you followed it up by demanding that I just get over it."

Dash stared down at the floor, it sounded terrible when Danny put it like that.

"I wasn't... demanding anything." he said, he was embarrassed by how whiny he sounded. "I was just trying to make it up to you, I was trying, I just thought... it's not fair that I can't have second chance. I was trying so hard and all I wanted was a second chance-"

"I DON'T CARE." Danny's eyes were screwed up tight, but it didn't stop the tears of fury from pouring down his cheeks, his voice so shredded with pain it was barely recognisable. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU. I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT. I DON'T OWE YOU A SECOND CHANCE. I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING. YOU FUCKED ME UP AND YOU. CAN'T. FIX IT."

Dash didn't know what to do. Danny was openly sobbing, his breaths came out in grunts as he couldn't hold the rage and misery back.

He was still standing within arm's reach, Dash cautiously put out a hand, to comfort him? He wasn't sure, but he barely brushed Danny's shoulder before Dash found himself spinning violently and his cheekbone exploded with sudden pain as he hit the floor. Cold hands drew away from him roughly.

"DON'T TOUCH ME." Danny screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

Dash watched as Danny grabbed his backpack and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

It was over, just like that it was over.

Dash sat up and touched his face, he wasn't bleeding but he knew it would bruise pretty bad. It hurt, he would be squinting through one eye for a few days.

Danny could have done this to him at any time, he could have done it to him every day if he wanted, and maybe he would, now that he'd done it once.

The thought made Dash feel cold as dread pooled in his stomach.

The next day Dash told people he'd gotten his black eye from playing football, his team knew it wasn't true, but they didn't ask. He kept his eye out for Danny, wondering if he would pop up invisibly and knock him off his feet, or drag him through the floor, or hit him when nobody was looking.

He clung to Kwan's side all day, afraid to be alone.

Phantom could be anywhere, he could get him anywhere, if he wanted to hurt Dash nobody would be able to stop him.

Nobody had been able to stop Dash, and he didn't even have superpowers.

But in the end, nothing happened.

Dash went through the day untouched. Danny didn't even look his way. Not once. He just acted like yesterday never happened.

But it did happen, Dash still had the bruise on his cheek, and the terror set deep in his bones.

In the following days, weeks, months, Danny still never touched him, never looked at him, never talked to him. Dash realised that Danny probably wasn't going to do anything else after all, that maybe he hadn't even meant to hurt him in the first place.

He was a hero after all, he protected people, even people he didn't like. The only time he had ever come into contact with Dash again was to haul him out of the way of a ghost, and he did so with the same care as he would with anyone else.

Danny wasn't like him, he didn't gloat about hurting him, he didn't revel in the fact that Dash was scared of him. He just went about his day, acting for all the world like Dash didn't even exist.

Dash never gave him a true apology, it was clear Danny didn't want one, it was far too late for that.

It left Dash with a sick feeling of unfulfillment. He understood now what Danny had been going through, the pain, the terror, he wanted Danny to know that he was truly sorry, that he really had changed this time.

But he couldn't, because forcing an unwanted apology on him would just make Dash the asshole all over again, he was trying to steal a forgiveness that he could never have.

So he had to find his closure somewhere else.

He stopped picking on Mikey, and Nathan, and all of the other nerds he frequently hassled. He even tried apologising to them, some forgave him, others didn't, and he had to be okay with that. He struggled not to lash out, it still felt unfair, the world had always told him that you were supposed to forgive people when they apologised. It always happened that way on tv, in the cartoons he grew up watching. The mean kid would apologise, the other kids would forgive him, and they would all become friends.

He was realising that the real world was a whole lot more complicated than that, he didn't earn forgiveness just because apologising was hard, he was learning fast that he didn't earn any brownie points for taking responsibility for his actions. He was just doing what any decent person should.

It took him a while to come to terms with that, to stop being angry at people for not letting him make it up to them. For not letting him prove that he had changed.

All it took was to occasionally pass by Danny in the hallways for him to cool his jets and think more clearly. To remind him that he was the bad guy, he was the one who hurt people, that his victims did not owe him anything.

In his last year of school, he had found himself watching the juniors below him falling into the same behaviours, the same struggle for power and control. Pushing other kids around without so much as sparing a thought to how it made them feel.

After a lengthy chat with Mr Lancer, Dash was given permission to pull out younger students from detention one day a week. He would talk to them, ask about their lives, ask about their feelings. He would ask why they lashed out, why they thought it was okay to treat people that way. Most of them didn't have an answer, or simply refused to give one, but he would push, he wouldn't let them hide in ignorance like he did.

Some of them did feel guilt for the way they treated people, and they only needed someone they could talk to who could understand what they were going through, so they wouldn't take it out on whoever was around at the time.

Others would take more effort, they need a far stronger push in the right direction, they were defensive and combative, selfish and unapologetic.

Dash had been one of those kids, he knew they would be hard work, but he did his best. He couldn't help all of them, some were simply unwilling to change.

So he contacted the school-board, he pushed for better protection for students, more programs to help troubled kids, he volunteered to keep running his own counselling groups even after he graduated.

It still never felt like enough.

After graduation he turned down his favoured college to attend one closer to home so he could continue his volunteer work. He joined petitions and rallies for change across entire school districts, he spoke at other schools' anti-bullying campaigns. He'd attended enough of them in his own childhood that he knew they did next to nothing, but it gave him the opportunity to reach out to kids for one on one support.

He found more volunteers for his counselling groups, he helped people start them up in other local schools. It was a lot of work, especially when he was also juggling his college studies. He was taking a major in psychology, it was brutal, Dash had never been good at studying, but he'd decided that this was what he needed to do, this was important to him.

It still wasn't enough.

It would come at him in the night, as soon as he laid his head down on his pillow. He would see the faces of all the kids he hurt, it felt so much worse the older he got, they just looked younger and younger every time the memories came back to plague him.

He had beat the shit out of children. Kids who were the same age as the students he now counselled. He beat them until they were bloody or bruised, he shoved them into lockers, pulled pranks that humiliated them in front of the whole school, and he had laughed.

He'd laughed at their pain.

When the guilt weighed him down, he would begin searching for new programs to volunteer for, new petitions or rallies to get behind, always finding another way to help protect kids like Danny from kids like him.

And to protect kids like him from doing things that would one day haunt them.

He had spread himself thin across every school in the district, barely keeping afloat at college, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Kids still slipped through the cracks, schools were still too lenient, there were too many kids, not enough volunteers.

Casper High was holding another anti-bullying assembly. It had been a few years since Dash had attended one at his old school. This year they had excitedly announced that they'd even secured an appearance from Phantom himself.

Dash's blood ran cold, his hands shook as he went over his notes, he was slated to do his speech alongside Phantom's, they would be sharing the stage for a solid 75 minutes, barely a few feet from one another.

When Danny showed up he was already in Phantom form, Dash spotted him discussing emergency exit plans with one of the organisers in the event of a ghost attack.

He was so different from when they were in school.

He was tall, and broad, he stood with confidence and had a good natured charm to him. He was a hero, he was strong, he was brave. He could fight monsters ten times his size with a smirk and a witty one liner. He could take on anything, he wasn't afraid of anything.

He was a kid, running down a hallway, screaming words that still pierced through Dash's mind every time he saw the hero's face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

Dash's hands clenched around his notes, shaking so violently that they barely even looked like words.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME EVER AGAIN."

"Dash?"

A deep voice cut through the chaos in Dash's mind as cold hands closed over his tremblings ones.

"It's good to see you again."

Phantom was smiling at him, his hands still closed around Dash's.

"Good... good to see you too." Dash mumbled, not able to meet the man's eyes.

Phantom paused before releasing Dash's hands.

"I've heard all about your work." Phantom grinned as Dash finally looked up and met his eyes.

"Yeah." he said, and then before his mind could catch up with his mouth, he blurted out, "I'm sorry, for everything."

Phantom's eyebrows rose for a moment, before he gave a gentle smile and clapped a hand on Dash's shoulder.

"I know." he said warmly. "Thank you."

They gave their speeches, Dash had told his story many times before, the victim that he'd pushed to breaking point, the boy whose words drove the change that made him the man he had become.

For the first time ever, that boy was listening.

After the assembly had packed up and the volunteers were heading home, it was Danny Fenton who approached Dash and asked if he wanted to go grab a beer together.

Dash thought it would be rather awkward, but Danny had plenty of experience socialising with the public, awkwardness slid right off him, and soon enough Dash found himself laughing alongside Danny as he told a story about the new misadventures of the Box Ghost.

He returned to his dorm that night, head still swimming from one too many beers, and he had the best sleep of his life.

He pulled back on some of his volunteer work, hunting for new people to take his place as he focused on college. He was falling far behind, but he would work hard to make his way back. As a volunteer he could only do so much, but with the right education and training, he could do so much more.

The guilt still haunted him, every so often when the pressure and the stress weighed heavy, it would creep back into his mind. It would probably never go away, not entirely, but at least now he had his closure.

Finally, it was enough.

#lula's fanfics #I'm still in a creativity funk so this isn't like #my best work #but I needed to get it out of my system #danny phantom #dash baxter #danny phantom fanfiction #tw bullying

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junghelioseok · 3 years

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heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘��💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Worst Behavior - Chris Evans smut

The one where it was supposed to be a sex scene, but Chris fucked you for real - and he didn’t care that your boyfriend was watching

Warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on oc boyfriend with Chris), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: thank you to my ride or die, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for looking this over and giving me her thoughts about it. Writing is such a better process with you to scream about it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was seething when I burst through her trailer’s door, so out of my mind that the sight of her raising a hand over her heart, clearly startled, didn’t make me feel even remotely guilty.

“So this is it, huh? We’re gonna film this one last scene, and then you’ll be back by his side, like you and I were nothing, like I never even mean anything to you.” Somewhere inside my troubled mind, a tiny, still emotionally sober part of me saw her wiping a stray tear after it immediately fell from her eye, clearly not wanting to show this sign of weakness in front of me.

But again, I was too out of it to care. I wanted her to hurt, I wanted her to feel the pain that I was feeling, after all she put me through. How could she expect me to leave this set like I was the same man that met her? She had fundamentally changed me, by showing me how to love and be loved, how it was possible to find in a single person the answer to all of my needs and desires for my future.

I couldn’t just go on pretending I didn’t know what I knew now. But that’s what she intended to do. She wanted to leave and keep living in the pretense that nothing had changed, that she was still in love with the man waiting for her on set.

I knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. I knew it because there was no way my feelings were one-sided, no way everything we had gone through had only mattered that much to me. I knew her, probably better than I knew myself. And I knew this was all just fear and anxiety, clouding her mind and stopping her from going after what she truly wanted.

Unfortunately, the only way I could process these emotions at the moment was through anger.

“Is that how you see me?” Her sweet voice surprised me, I didn’t expect her to actually respond to my hurt-filled accusations. “Do you think I’m that cruel, that I would just be able to… to leave and forget you like this?”

I huffed, too inside my own mind to relent now. Yes, this is how I saw her, at least at that moment. She was the cause of my hurt, because she was the object of my desires.

“You’re doing this out of your own free will,” I reminded her. “Don’t try to pretend you’re just some innocent little victim in all of this. You have our fate in your hands, and you’re deciding to let it all go to waste.”

At the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks, my decision to leave was made even before she ordered me out of her trailer. I couldn’t stand to see her cry, couldn’t deal with the knowledge that I was the cause for it.

So, once again, I turned that distress into anger.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The air was chilly on set, and the fact that I was practically naked under the robe didn’t help. Neither did the tension between Chris and I. I wanted to make things right, I wanted to reach over and run my hands over his shoulders, relax the muscles I’d come to know so well. But I couldn’t do that right now. Not with my boyfriend watching us.

So I resigned myself to fiddling with my fingers as we waited for the set to be ready. Since it was one of those artistic sex shots, it would be filmed from a distance and there wouldn’t be any lines or sounds that we had to make, just movements to simulate. Which meant that the few people that were allowed to stay on the set had to watch the whole thing unfold from afar, and we would be free to fake having sex while they filmed us.

I don’t think I realized this could very well be the last time I had Chris this close to me until I had his mouth on mine again. I could still feel the emotions from earlier that day right beneath the surface, boiling his blood as he buried his hand on my hair and devoured my lips like he’d done so many times before.

Good thing the scene called for desperation.

I kissed him back just as desperately, wanting to enjoy every second of this experience, even if it wasn’t exactly what I desired at that time. Chris always kissed me so well, guiding me to where he wanted, and in no time at all he had me sprawled on the bed, underneath his larger body. I couldn’t help but to moan lowly when his lips attached themselves to my jaw, and I felt his smirk against my skin.

I couldn’t blame him. The effect he had on me was incomparable. He had every right to be smug about the sounds he could pull from me, Lord knows I’d cried out his name enough times to permanently puncture my own ear drums.

And still, it didn’t seem like it would be enough. The more he touched me - even if it was under a blanket, for a scene - the clearer it became that it could never be enough. I still wanted him. I wanted him forever, in fact.

But just as the realization occurred to me, his thumb slipped over my covered clit, pressing on the little nub and making me jerk away in surprise. “Shhh…” He directed, making sure to cover my face with his bicep so the camera wouldn’t catch my shock. “Just relax so it doesn’t hurt.”

I didn’t understand what he meant until I felt him pulling the flimsy excuse of underwear aside. That’s when my cunt pulsed, just before he positioned his cock and easily slid right into my wetness.

The feeling of his thickness was too much, especially when I wasn’t expecting it. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and he moved his arm so the camera could see it, but also turned his head to the other side so they wouldn’t notice his lips moving as he murmured to me, “Careful, sweetheart. Can’t make any real sounds. Not like the ones I usually pull from you. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to realize that we’re actually doing it, huh?”

Chris’ P.O.V.

My desire for her ran so deep, I could hear my blood pumping in my veins as I fucked her right in front of her boyfriend. Right in front of everyone from the filming crew, for the camera to see.

I took sick pleasure in knowing this moment would be eternalized for history. Everyone would see just how pretty she looks for me and only for me, and no one would ever know the truth.

No one would ever know the truth. That I had her, that she was mine, but only for a bit. That I got to hold her, and have her screaming my name, but I’d never get to hear it again. I’d never get to have her again.

I didn’t want to have to pretend that I forgot it. Like I didn’t know this other side of her, that we never shared these sexual experiences that felt much more intimate than anything I’d ever shared with anyone else before.

It was hard to pretend that I didn’t care underneath the mask of a character that cared too much, because I was that character. I loved this woman just like he did, and I wanted to show her just how much.

I’d looked for her in everyone I’d met before. Slept with so many women, went out on so many dates, and now here she was, clenching around my cock, reaching for my hand and still, she wasn’t mine.

How can you keep looking for the love of your life if you’ve already met them?

And even if there was emotion - and there was so much emotion, ours or of our characters, it didn’t matter anymore - this felt so dirty, dirtier than anything else we’d ever done before.

I’d had her in so many ways, and still, having her now, right in front of him, brought new feelings I never expected to feel. And I couldn’t suffer through them alone. I needed to make sure she’d acknowledged it too.

“He has no idea, you know,” I whispered, low enough so the only person who could hear was her. Her eyes met mine in surprise, but she kept in character, while I took advantage of my position to taunt her more. “No one has. No one knows you only look like this when you have my dick inside of you.”

A moan broke free from her, making me smile inwardly even though I couldn’t smirk like I wanted to. I let go of one of her hands to push a few strands of hair away from her face, so both the camera and I could get a good vision of her expression.

“You’re such a good girl for me, honey. He could never get you like this. Only I can do that.” The way she clawed at my back made it obvious that I was right. And still, the reality of our situation didn’t allow for me to feel any sort of pride in that.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to cum and have to pull out of her, let her go back to him and their life as I was left by myself. “I can’t let you go,” I admitted, and her eyes opened up to meet mine, a slight sparkle of understanding in them. “Not like this,” I continued. “Not ever.”

And still, my hips picked up the pace and brought us to that old familiar high, right when I came to terms with the fact that I’d have to leave her. “Baby,” I whispered, this time knowing the microphone would pick it up.

Our eyes connected once more, but this time, there was mostly pain, from my gaze and from hers. I stood there for as long as I could, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, until the director’s voice freed us from the scene, and then I was forced to leave.

Before I did though, I had one last thing to say.

“I don’t want to have to miss you.”

One thing was certain. It would be impossible to remain professional during the press conference.

#my fics #chris evans smut #smut #chris evans #famous reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans reader smut #chris evans fiction #rpf

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ranhaitanisgf · 3 years

Text

rindou haitani when you get injured: headcanons

[𖤐] haha...hey...how yall doin...this is me making my first really angsty?? type post, i dont even know how i wrote this because in you saw this then you know i was lowk struggling LMAO but not to worry because i did it...also this is in inspiration from this since some of this was supposed to be there, but then it was going off from the request so i decided to make it a separate thing, so i hope you guys like it....

❧ masterlist

✂︎ it was no secret to anybody even remotely involved in the delinquent world that the haitani brothers of roppongi are extraordinary fighters; it was a known fact, and nobody would ever dare to mess with them, and especially not anybody close with them.

✂︎ along with them also includes you, the friend who was always around them no matter what they were doing. the friend who wasn’t really a friend to rindou haitani, but nonetheless was the one who was there for him when he needed it. it’s always been a tough challenge to try and read him, so the relationship between the two of you seemed to stay in the “not quite a friend but not quite a lover”. you’re never really sure what he’s thinking and what the meaning behind his actions is, so you’ve just convinced yourself that he sees you as a friend only, nothing more, (it’s painful, but what more can you do?).

✂︎ while you’ve been pretending like everything is alright, rindou has been trying his best, really. he’s been trying to push down his feelings for you, and he’s been trying to distance himself from you, but he just can’t. no matter how hard he tries to forget about you, he simply can’t find it in himself to refuse you whenever you ask if you can come over or if he can meet you somewhere.

✂︎ honestly, it never really occurred to him that you would ever be targeted because of him and his status, which is why he never really made an effort to try and hide the fact that you were close with him, because who would even dare to try and mess with you while the haitani brothers were by your side?

✂︎ this is why when he saw ran walking into the apartment with a solemn face, he was a bit confused on what exactly had happened to make him act that way? had his new arm candy suddenly up and disappeared on him?

“rindou, some guys ambushed (y/n) to try and get our location.”

“...what.”

“they’re in the hospital...in a coma, maybe you should-”

✂︎ rindou is already gone from the apartment, leaving ran sighing in the living room as he gets on his bike and immediately starts speeding towards the hospital. he doesn’t want to believe it; he doesn’t want to believe that something so horrible could happen to you because of him.

✂︎ the words that ran spoke just kept replaying in his mind over and over again on his way to the hospital, and he started cursing at himself for how stupid he was. how could he have thought that there wouldn’t be a target on your back? why didn’t he stay with you more? why didn’t he walk you home more? he was so...so naïve!

✂︎ beat downs and the smell of blood have never been a stranger to him, but now that he’s seeing you all beat up and bruised in the hospital room, he wishes it was. he wishes that he wasn’t smelling this putrid smell of rubbing alcohol, he wishes that he had never even met you, and he wishes that this wasn’t you; the (y/n) who always seemed to be by his side, the (y/n) who was always there to pull him out when he was doing too deep, why were you in a hospital bed?

✂︎ for a couple of moments he’s just standing at the door, staring at you with shock in his eyes. he doesn’t even know what to feel right now. hell, he isn’t even feeling anything. it’s all just numb because he knows this is his fault. you got hurt because of him, and he was never going to forgive himself for it.

✂︎ as he slowly approaches you, he could feel the lump forming in his throat as he was able to get a better look at the giant bruises scattered around your body. how anybody could ever do this to someone as kind as you, he’ll never know. he doesn’t even want to think about the sick bastards who did this because he knows that if he does, he’ll go out and kill them.

✂︎ he just sat down in the chair next to your bed, a hand reaching out to grab yours. he paused for a moment, feeling like even a simple touch might shatter you because of how...fragile you looked. it hurt his heart to even look at you, but at the same time he couldn’t tear his eyes away, knowing that this happened because of him.

✂︎ eventually, his hand very carefully held yours, and he hesitantly pressed his lips to your knuckles, but the moment he felt the warmth of your skin on his lips, he couldn’t do it anymore. before he even knew it, his vision was going blurry and there were hot tears slipping down his face, (god forbid any nurses walked in because the lowest of his low points).

“sorry (y/n)...i’m so sorry. i’m-i’m sorry…please come back, i love you.”

✂︎ he wanted his sudden confession to make some sort of impact on your sleeping state, but when he looked up at you, all he saw was the slow rising of your chest as you inhaled and exhaled a soft breath.

“i’m sorry...i’m sorry...i’m sorry…”

why did i write this again smh

#東京リベンジャーズ #東京リベンジャーズ x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo卍revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #headcanons #tok rev #tok rev x reader #tok rev headcanons #;; hana writes tok rev #rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #anime #manga #x reader #reader #reader insert

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Make Me! AU

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thekingreturn · 3 years

Text

League Roadtrip Headcanons

Characters: Shigaraki, Spinner, Twice, Mr Compress, Big Sis Magne, Dabi

Tomura Shigaraki

Tomura Shigaraki makes your departure late waiting until he’s sure his devices are properly charged. Nevermind if you’ve got a remote charger, or that its only going to be a few hours, he’s not risking being screenless and stuck looking at the scenery (heaven forbid). You’ve (affectionately, probably) described his car ride habits as nesting. He swaddles his lower half in blankets, reclines the seat as far back as he can get away with, shoves a pillow behind his head, and settles in for a few hours with his headphones and whatever game he’s reserved for this thing. Just set whatever snacks you get him on his chest and he’ll graze on them at his leisure.

In general he prefers to be pretty quiet, long car rides actually aren’t great for him mentally. He doesn’t like the idea of being forced to be in close proximity to a person with no feasible exit. Not that he resents spending time with you, just that he gets grouchy and withdrawn on principle if he thinks he has no choice. Every two hours or so, though, he’ll turn off the game, straighten his seat (likely sending a shitload of crumbs into your car carpet) and just sort of. Butt his head against your shoulder until you start talking to him or at least pet his head. He’ll let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before relapsing back into his pseudo den

He can’t drive and thus you will be running this show for the entirety of it. Afterwards, though, you notice him..hovering, more than usual, just sort of urging you to lie down and bringing you food with the same sort of furtive expectance as a cat bringing you dead mice. You think this is his way of thanking you, but don’t confront him on it. Each time is a little easier with him.

Spinner

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner) may be one of the few members of the League who knows what he’s doing behind the wheel, but between you and him he actually doesn’t like doing it very much. He gets jumpy on the road and is prone to getting snappish with the other drivers. Still, he wants to do his part to pitch in, so tends to take the beginning and end of the drive. He also casually takes over snack detail and is the one to get out of the car and fill it with gas, as well as unload and reload the car. And navigation to boot. He’s a giver. Don’t tell anyone.

The level of conversational adeptness really depends on how long you’ve been seeing each other. Early stages comes up abruptly against his inability to small talk, you swear at some point he furtively checks his phone for icebreakers he found on the internet. Later stages bring ease with them, though, and with them Spinner’s favorite Olympic sport, complaining. The man pretends to hate gossip but if you hit the right buttons he’s more than happy to give you heavily editorialized anecdotes about the League and his various observations therein. Join in with some of your own, he’s a surprisingly good audience. The conversations will turn political at some point (and if you’re dating him, chances are good that’s somewhere you’re happy to follow) but if needed he can be convinced to leave work at work.

Spinner rarely initiates, even later on, but he’s kind of a sucker for tropey couple shit. Hold his hand while driving and he’ll get real quiet, even if it’s just for a second or two. Wrap your arms around him in the gas station while he pays, remind him that you’re proud to be seen with him. Kiss his cheek for getting your bags, make him feel valued. He’ll be following you around like a lovesick puppy.

Twice

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice) prefers to be the one driving, even going over his limits while insisting he’s fine. He can be convinced to take a break once you start to notice he’s barely holding his eyes open, but it will in fact, take some convincing not to get him to just slam back a questionable amount of five hour energies. He finds it relaxing, one of the few times he can just sort of sink into a process. Keep an eye on his turns, occasionally he’ll take a couple he didn’t mean to, but its a good way to feel a little more in control of himself and the situation.

He’s a good guy to have around a car, capable of changing a tire or getting the engine back up and running before you finish looking up tow services. He won’t necessarily ask for a reward but depending on how late in the relationship you are he’s definitely going to be giving you hopeful glances until he gets the affection he craves so badly.

The man basically invented rubbing your partner’s thigh while driving, he likes keeping a hand on you whenever he can, likes feeling you next to him. It’s such a simple thing but something about having you in his car really does make him feel trusted. He doesn’t really get a whole lot of areas where he feels competent. When you fall asleep a little before arriving home, and he gets to carry you inside, feeling how completely you let yourself depend on him? There’s nothing else quite like it.

Mr. Compress

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress) is...an ok driver. He thinks he’s better than he is, you can tell from the way he handles the wheel, the little flick of his hand as he hits his turn signal and the way he’ll narrate whatever he’s doing. And in practice, he is pretty good! Until other drivers with less of a showmanship factor hit the road. Which is always. All it takes is one guy pulling ahead of him too fast and he gets flustered enough to throw him off his game.

The two of you switch off driving at pretty even intervals. Even with navigation apps (which he does use, he’s not a Luddite) he still prefers to have a paper map on hand to cross reference it. He can be a little annoying with it but he more than makes up for it with the way he’ll touch your shoulder to indicate an offramp. “Why don’t we turn here, angel, its scenic.”

He’s much more about the journey than the destination, happy to divert the trip into an exploration of local curiosities if the two of you have time. He likes the anonymity of these small drive through towns where the two of you could be anyone, anything to the locals. He’ll squeeze your hand and murmur legends or history pieces if he knows any about the place (he makes about half of them up, but they’re nice stories anyways).

These things always take longer than it should, but he makes it all feel like but a moment.

Big Sis Mag

Mag Hikishi (Magne) is another one who prefers to drive than be driven, and to be frank, you may as well let her. If stuck in the passenger seat she has a bad case of invisible brake and tends to grip the ceiling a little too pointedly. She has absolute faith in your abilities, and also if she’s going to be in a car crash she at least wants it to be her own fault. Its alright, darling, just sit in the passenger seat and look pretty for her, won’t you?

Master of the shortcut that takes you an hour off course, its best if you leave without an expected arrival time. She likes starting trips bright and early, likes seeing the roads clear of other cars and getting to enjoy those quiet morning hours with you. Not that things are often quiet with Mag. She has this ability to get you talking about almost anything for hours, with plenty of her own contributions to boot. She’s lived a storied life, and she wants to hear your own.

Mag has strong opinions on gas station snacks (Takis, string cheese if they have any, and water being a go to) and will absolutely hover a little to make sure you’re well hydrated for long hours in the hot car. She has an eclectic collection of CDs if you don’t feel like talking, and if you need silence, well...that’s harder, but she’ll do it for you, only occasionally breaking it with a peck on the cheek. She enjoys these moments with just the two of you, able to just bounce off of each other and get absolutely mushy without her beloved coworkers around to tease. For a moment, at least, things all feel like they might be ok.

Dabi

Dabi, like Shigaraki, never got his license and isn’t really interested in trying for it. He doesn’t really like any form of transportation and tends to walk most places when he gets the option, given he has a tendency to get motion sick and it’s really hard to keep up your persona of unflappable bad boy while turning a few shades of green. Still, sometimes its unavoidable, so he flings himself in the backseat, props open a window, and prays he’ll knock out soon.

Dabi’s not the easiest partner in the world to communicate with under the best of circumstances, but now especially when every jolt makes him regret being born (moreso than usual) and the only thing coming out of his mouth when he opens it is complaints about how that brat of a leader is doing this to him on purpose, has to be. This is one of the rare instances where fussing over him actually gets some desirable results. Tuck a blanket around him, get him set up with some water, and check in on him every time you stop. Eventually a hand shoots out from between the front seats and grabs at the air until you take the hint and lock your fingers through his. Its not much, but from Dabi? Its everything.

Ultimately he does his best to sleep through these incidents and has you under a firm promise to never describe them to the others, ever. He’ll incentivize it if he has to. You know he’s good for it.

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ichorai · 3 years

Text

frozen hearts, flaming arrows ; p.sh

parts ; one. masterlist. two coming soon.

pairing ; fire!seonghwa x ice!reader

summary ; two enemy clans. one icer healer, one flamer soldier, one brewing war. love was never meant to be a part of this. but then again, when is love ever supposed to be a part of anything?

words ; 7.3k

warnings / includes ; cursing, violence, a make-out scene !!, future suggestive / mature content, hwa being sexy as always, ANGST okay this is a lot of ANGST and hURT, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers trope lol

a/n ; bet yall didn’t see this one coming lol but yea pls enjoy !!! im rlly excited for this series omg !!! im sorry this part was rlly short and kinda bad kkdfjdf but this is just the beginning and i swear part two will be much better !!

A snowflake glowing a luminescent blue lazily floated above your palm, multiplying into several others until you held a mini-flurry in your hand. You walked past all the frosted-over trees, huffing in deep breaths of cold air as your boots stepped over piles of unblemished snow and crispy dead leaves.

Being a healer was exhausting. Though you were still fairly new to the job, you couldn’t help but lay all the blame on yourself for being incapable of saving a life today. You just… hadn’t expected there to be that much blood. Icers had thicker blood for a reason; it wasn’t usually a problem. The head healer tried to reassure you that you did everything you could, but you couldn’t stand to be in the medbay for much longer. You needed air.

And that’s how you ended up here, head spinning dizzily as you stomped through the wintry grey forest, releasing out a frustrated groan from the bottom of your lungs.

“You’re dangerously close to our territory, Icer.” The sudden deep-timbered voice had you flinching so harshly you hit your head on an icy tree branch. “I’d watch my step if I was you.”

Breath caught in your throat, you watched with wide eyes as the Flamer stepped out of the shadow of a tree. He was undeniably handsome; his irises were dark, flecked with a fierce gold the same hue as the edge of a fire, his slicked-back hair a nightly black, and a curl of his carmine lips that was nowhere near friendly. An obvious insignia of a red flame was embedded into his unwrinkled jacket, a clear sign of this man being from the Fire Tribe.

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized I was so close to the border.” You murmured, backing away slowly. The small snowflakes that you had accumulated in your palm quickly dissipated into the air, but miniscule particles of snow still floated around you, no doubt a result of your quaking nerves.

Noticing this, the man watched curiously as a snowflake drifted by him. He raised a finger towards the ice crystal, a small orange flame bursting out of the tip. The snowflake melted into a droplet of water, falling to his feet. You noticed the snow had melted away from him in a large circle around his shoes, now standing in a patch of wet grass. Even from the great distance between the two of you, you could still feel the wavering heat pulsating from this strange man.

“What are you doing so far away from your people?”

You knew you shouldn’t be talking to a Flamer stranger. They were dangerous, and it was common knowledge that Icers and Flamers weren’t on the best terms as of late.

“I couldn’t be there anymore,” You whispered, just loud enough for him to pick up. At his raised eyebrows, you continued on. “I’m a healer. It was a lot of pressure not to mess up.”

He nodded, his curiosity getting the best of him. He stepped closer and asked, “Then why are you a healer?”

“Because I’m good at it.” The words came off far too snobbish for your liking, so you quickly added in a sheepish tone, “Also because I like helping people.”

The two of you fell into a queer silence, before he nodded, somewhat satisfied with your answer. The Flamer turned his back to you, “I best get going now. The lands aren’t going to patrol themselves. Run back to the rest of your people, Icer.”

You could feel his heat retract as he walked away. More snow fell to cover his tracks, as if the strange man with flaming eyes was never there.

It wasn’t until the same time the next day that you found yourself strolling towards the forest, back to the same spot last night, feet acting to their own accord. You paused in your steps when you realized where you were heading.

Would you really risk getting a Flamer angry at you for getting too close to their borders again? With not another thought, you pushed back the doubts and walked onwards… it wasn’t like you actually crossed the border. There was a large grey strip of forest land that belonged to neither tribe; it was far too costly to maintain and the forest gave them nothing but bugs and piles of dead leaves.

Much to your surprise, the man was already there, watching you with those glowing eyes of his. “What are you doing here?” He hissed.

“I can ask you the same thing,” You retaliated, arching an eyebrow.

The cold wind whistled as it blew past you, but you were planted firmly to the ground. He, on the other hand, grimaced quite obviously as the breeze tousled his neat hair about, sending dark strands careening into his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” You said with a small smile. Although he pulsated with heat, that only made him feel the frigid sting of the cold wind all the more. At the sight of his shivering form, you wondered just how bad a Flamer can be.

He eyed you suspiciously before stepping forward quite boldly, sticking out a hand, “I’m Seonghwa.”

There was a strange arrhythmic thump in your chest. Now that he was so close to you, the lilith-hued snow around your feet started to wilt away as well, your cheeks flushing at the sudden rise in temperature. Icers weren’t very good with heat, that was obvious.

And when you took his hand, it was as if he was the coldest thing you’ve ever touched. But that couldn’t be it… you couldn’t really feel the cold much. Nonetheless, you gripped his palm unflinchingly, staring him dead in the eye. It became like some sort of challenge, but the both of you knew that you had obviously won. Seonghwa winced at how freezing your fingers against his were.

“Do you come here everyday?” The Flamer asked once he retracted his hand from yours to shove into the warmth of his pocket.

“Yesterday was my first time. I wasn’t planning on coming back today, but I just ended up here on instinct.” Your boot scuffed the pristine snow, avoiding the way his gaze seemed to quite literally burn holes into you.

Seonghwa frowned slightly. Funnily enough, the same exact thing had happened to him. He wasn’t on patrolling duty today, so really, he had no cause to be out here. He could be curled up with a book in front of a nice, warm fire, instead of standing in the snow with an Icer, of all people. Gods, he must be crazy.

“So… what are you doing here?” Your seemingly innocent question had Seonghwa struggling for words.

In all honesty, he had been curious whether or not you’d come back. An Icer healer in the Grey Forest was more than enough to pique his interest. Nothing remotely gripping ever happened in the Fire Tribe (other than the various men and women who threw themselves at him whenever they got the chance). He hadn’t actually expected you to come back.

“I’m… hunting.”

“It’s illegal to hunt outside of your tribe lands, everybody knows that.”

“Who said I was hunting for an animal?” Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest to try and look somewhat menacing, but you just grinned. “I was looking for a book I lost.”

You hummed slightly, “Right.” As you waved your arm about, little snowflakes seemed to trail after you, and Seonghwa watched in masked fascination. “Can’t you just admit that you came to see me again?”

“Who’s to say that it’s not you coming to see me?”

“Hmm, let’s just say we both came to see each other. I’ve never seen a Flamer up this close before.”

Seonghwa blinked down at you with wide eyes, as if realizing just how small the distance between the two of you was. His cheeks reddened quickly as he cleared his throat into a fist, stepping backwards and almost slipping on more snow. When he attempted to sidestep the large wet puddle he’d created because of his rippling heat, his foot caught onto a tree root and he tumbled backwards. Snowflakes clung onto his dark hair and he shivered yet again. You tried to conceal your sniggers behind a palm, but Seonghwa still seemed to notice, his blazing eyes narrowing in mock-offense.

“You’re enjoying this,” He stated with an accusatory tone.

“Of course I am,” You replied through muted laughs. “I’m sorry. I would help, but I’m afraid I’d only make it worse.” To emphasize your point, you shook your hands slightly, blue crystals of snow whirling about.

Seonghwa’s fiery eyes seemed to soften at this. He pushed himself up to his feet, now shivering so harshly that you could hear his teeth chatter. You’d only known this Flamer for less than two days and yet he’d already managed to tug at your heartstrings.

“You should go back and get warm. I’ve read about Flamers and their immune systems… you guys are absolute babies when it comes to the cold.” Out of instinct, you reached out to touch his arm, like you did to most sick patients. But of course, you paused just before the tips of your fingers brushed against his jacket, curled your hand into a palm and forced it back down to your side. “I wouldn’t want you getting a fever just to see an ordinary Icer.”

Seonghwa cracked a half of a smile, shaking his head in disbelief.

But when he spun on his heel to leave, you called out before you could stop yourself, “Will I ever see you again, Seonghwa?” He stopped in his tracks without turning to looking at you. Stomach coiling into a tight knot of tension, you awaited in the palpable silence, a heavy lump forming in your throat.

“Next time, let’s go somewhere a bit warmer, yeah? Meet me closer to Flamer territory, by the river next to the largest tree in the Grey Forest. If you get to see me shiver, I get to see you sweat, Icer.” And then he continued on his way, until his lithe form disappeared behind the misty haze and the frosted shrubbery.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Just what were you thinking, agreeing to meet with a Flamer? Were you always this stupid or had you just realized now? You couldn’t believe you were spending your free time with some random Flamer from the Fire Tribe.

Thoughts of doubt swirled about in your head as you wove your way through the Grey Forest. The low rumbling of the river had you gulping down a large lump in your throat. It was already far too warm for you liking, the little snowflakes that buzzed around your head slowly melting away in water droplets. You didn’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before; not even back when you performed your first major surgery. There was just something about Seonghwa that you couldn’t stay away from… like when your Nan used to tell you no sugar candies before bed, it only made you crave for them all the more.

By the time you spotted Seonghwa leaning against the large tree, you were panting heavily, perspiration marring your skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” The Flamer chimed, seeming to be in a much better mood now that the tables have turned. He seemed quite at ease, not a bead of sweat to be seen. “Already worked up quite a sweat, have we?”

Pathetically, you lifted your arm to conjure a small snowball, proceeding to press it against your head for cool relief. It quickly melted into a slushy of ice and water, dripping down your hair. You frowned, while Seonghwa grinned in return.

“Not so fun, is it?” He teased while you kicked off your boots and dipped your feet into the river, moaning in relief at the slightly cooler temperature of the water. You wished to make it colder, but much to your disappointment, the water wouldn’t crystalize because of how quickly it was rushing by.

Seonghwa crouched next to you, but still kept a decent length away, picking up rocks to skip across the river. For that, you were grateful, because if he made you any warmer than you were at that moment, you would’ve gotten up and stormed back to Icer lands.

“The first time we met,” You started after flicking water onto your face to cool down, making Seonghwa glance at you with curious eyes. “You were telling me to go back to my territory. But now, you made me come closer to Flamer lands. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “You’re just… not what I thought an Icer would be like. It made me curious.”

“And what did you think we’d be like?”

A small shrug lifted his shoulder, “Cold. I mean, not that you aren’t, but cold as in… your hearts would be frozen over as well. I grew up with stories of Icers freezing Flamers to death and placing them in their gardens as statues. But you don’t seem like you’d do that kind of stuff. Especially when you told me that you were a healer.”

“For me, everybody knew the story of how the Fire Tribe would lock the Icers they captured in a sealed room, and the snow they made would melt and they’d slowly watch as the room filled with water, unable to turn it into ice because it was too damn hot. And eventually… they’d drown.” At the last few words, you frosted over your fingers and dunked them beneath the waters’ surface.

Seonghwa’s horrified expression made you chuckle slightly.

“Well, for the record, we don’t do that. We aren’t barbarians.” His words were said huffily as he crossed his arms and turned fully to fix his rapt gaze on you.

“I know. It was merely a silly childhood legend.”

The hours dribbled away fairly quickly, you and Seonghwa exchanging tales of your childhood that only increased in absurdity the farther you recounted. He told you about his friend, San, and how they once snuck into Wind Tribe territory to steal rare Gustberries that only grew in the harsh fields of the Breezers. You told him of Hongjoong and Wooyoung, the former being your closest friend and the latter constantly getting himself hurt. Laughs and giggles and the quiet hum of the river filled the silences in between the gaps of your vivid conversations. The more time you spent talking with him, the more you found yourself growing fond of the fiery-eyed man. Who would’ve thought?

By the time the sun had already set, you and Seonghwa were sitting much closer than when you had first sat down, his heat pulsating through the air in waves. To be honest, you didn’t quite mind the subtle warmth after you got used to the initial shock, but you knew you were pushing your limits. An Icer shouldn’t be out in high temperatures for this long.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, head swimming dizzily as you sucked in lungfuls of air. Slightly concerned, Seonghwa reached out to help you find your feet, but he pulled away at the last moment, just as you had last night. The tables really have turned, you thought in mild amusement.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…” You swayed on your feet slightly, pressing your cooler palm against your warmer-than-usual forehead.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the cold. You guys are absolute babies when it comes to the heat.” He said, mimicking the same exact words you told him yesterday. A weak laugh slipped past your lips, as you leaned against a tree branch.

Oh, everything was just too hot. You’ve been out of the snow for too long…

All of a sudden, the world was flipped onto its side, damp grass pressing against your face. You could barely register Seonghwa startled yelp before everything went dark.

“Hey. Icer, are you okay? Icer! Y/N, come on, I put you back in the snow, I don’t know what else to do.”

Though your head pounded as though someone had whacked you with a tree branch, you could just barely make out Seonghwa’s concerned tone. When your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with the sight of the Flamer’s handsome, yet alarmed face.

“You okay?” His words came gentle and soothing.

Puffing out a small sigh, you nodded tiredly. Being back in the snow felt much better, “Yeah. Thank you,” You croaked out sheepishly.

Seonghwa beamed down at you, before shuffling away so as the snow around you wouldn’t melt. But just as soon as the smile graced his features, it quickly dissipated into a frown, “Don’t scare me like that,” He practically scolded. “You win, okay? Next time we can stay in the snow.”

Breath caught in your throat, a heavy blush laid over your cheeks, “Next time? You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“No, I suppose not,” Seonghwa said somewhat nonchalantly, shocking you.

“I… well, thank you for the, well… uhm, getting me back,” You stumbled over your words the longer Seonghwa stared. Oh, what was this man doing to you? “I have some… healer things I need to do… so, I best get going… erm -” Without another thought, you pushed yourself onto your knees, snow crunching underneath your breeches as you leaned over towards him.

He was so warm. His face, especially, once you brushed your far-cooler lips against his cheekbone. The Flamer reared back with a ridiculous, startled expression, eyes comically wide. One of his hands came up to clamp against the cheek you kissed, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

“It was really nice talking to you. Thank you again,” You murmured while hiding a grin behind your palm. With that, you turned on your heel and left the blushing Flamer alone in the snow.

From then on, you saw Seonghwa practically every day. Oftentimes, you’d meet in the snow and stroll through the Grey Forest until it got far too warm and the both of you would have to turn back. The moment he’d see your skin dampen with sweat, he’d have the two of you abruptly changing course, steering away from the heat of the Fire Tribe. You thought that was incredibly thoughtful of him.

Once, Seonghwa discovered a more shallower part of the river that you could actually crystalize to keep yourself cool. That day was a good day. You had gently taken his scorching hand and tried to help him run across the ice before his heat could melt it away. The two of you left soaking wet, boisterous grins painted across your lips.

Hongjoong, being your closest friend and all, was constantly questioning and badgering on about where you went every afternoon. After all, you were a healer and your tribe needed you. But, however selfish it was, you didn’t want to stop seeing Seonghwa… he made you feel things no person from the Ice Tribe had ever made you feel.

The more you saw him, the more you had the urge to yank his stupidly sharp jawline towards you and shove your lips onto his. You’d imagine the way the warmth radiating off his skin would feel underneath your frigid palms and lips. You thought back to the second-long cheek kiss you gave him a couple months back, a fond smile tickling at the corner of your mouth.

“What’re you thinking about?” Seonghwa asked from beside you, nudging you slightly. Over a long course of time, the pair of you grew more and more comfortable with one another, inching closer and closer with each meet-up. At this point, you were practically sitting on top of him, one of his legs intertwined with yours and your head laying on his shoulder, the both of you leaning against a frosted tree trunk. Seonghwa smelled of sweet, burning sugar with a heavier scent of roasted coffee beans. He also often complained about how cold you were, although his tone was always fairly light and lacked any true bite.

“Nothing,” You were quick to say, pulling your head away from his shoulder to peer up at him.

Shrugging off your strange attitude, Seonghwa glanced down at you with excited eyes, “You wanna see a new trick I learned?”

Without awaiting your answer (because he knew you’d say yes anyway), Seonghwa cupped his hands together and pulled them away to produce a thin orange flame morphed into the shape of a shooting arrow. You watched in rapt fascination as the fire-arrow spun in the air when Seonghwa whistled sharply. Then, he pushed it away to embed itself into the tree across from you. The tree’s dry bark was quick to catch aflame, but you flicked your hands and caged in the fire with frost, the orange dying out into the blackened wood.

“Learned that during archery,” Seonghwa beamed down at your bemused expression. “You know, only the best Flamers can morph their fires into shapes. It takes a lot of concentration.”

With no effort at all, you twirled your fingers to make an intricate rabbit out of ice, whiskers and fur and all, holding it out to Seonghwa with a minuscule smile. The Flamer scowled slightly, and touched the tip of his finger to the clear crystal, watching it dribble into liquid through the gaps of your palms.

You rolled your eyes to the side before leaning your head back onto his shoulder with a content sigh, “Don’t you compete with me, Park Seonghwa. You’ll never win.”

Much to your surprise, he didn’t bother to argue, and instead pressed his warm nose into your frosty hair, humming, “Yeah, yeah. And who was the one that fainted in the heat again?”

“If I recall correctly, you’ve caught more than three colds just this year! And it’s only the fifth moon, too!”

His hands suddenly darted out to tickle your midriff, to which you squirmed away with a smothered laugh.

“Hm, wanna put it to the test? I promise I’ll go easy,” You said teasingly once you managed to capture his wrists. You could feel his pulse rapidly thumping against the pad of your thumb.

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, you’re not the one that’ll be hurting.”

“Oh, you’re on, Icer.”

The two of you stumbled onto your feet and you held yourself up in a defensive stance. With a faint smile, Seonghwa mimicked your position. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very fair fight; you were a healer and he was a well-trained fighter.

But nonetheless, you were the first to throw, a frozen ball of ice the size of your fist hurtled towards him at top speed. Seonghwa was quick to react, blasting the ice with orange flames until it melted mid-air. You frowned and lithely dodged behind a tree when he reconjured his fire arrows and sent them after you. In retaliation, you quickly brought up a thick ice barrier with a laugh, smothering the thin lines of fire away with the sole of your boots.

The air was chock-full of his crackling flames muted by your snow, crystalline icicles dripping from nearby tree branches, and lame taunts tossed back and forth by the both of you as you play-fought for another couple of minutes.

Seonghwa might’ve had the upper hand in combat, but you knew how to play dirty. Just as he was stepping forward, you sent a sheet of slippery ice to slide underneath his boots. With a bewildered expression, Seonghwa flailed about for a moment, the small fire he prepared in his palm dying down to glowing embers, before tumbling down into the snow.

“That was low, Y/N,” The Flamer huffed out whilst trying to catch his breath against the pale white mound of snowflakes, glaring at you with playfully narrowed eyes. You were glad to see that he wasn’t actually angry at you.

“Do you call defeat, Seonghwa? There’s no shame in admitting it, you know!” Your jaunts were light-hearted as you walked closer to him and Seonghwa found himself grinning despite the cold stinging his skin.

Sticking your hand out to help him up, Seonghwa eyed you for a moment with an indiscernible expression, his playful nature fading away into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Instead of pushing himself up, he suddenly pulled you down with him, a startled shriek leaving your lips and echoing across the Grey Forest. You fell on top of him with a grunt of pain, meeting his glowing amber eyes with your confused ones. During your hazy moment of puzzlement, Seonghwa tugged you closer, his warm palms curled around your forearms gently.

And then, without further warning, he kissed you. This one was nothing like the first kiss you gave him. That one was merely an innocent peck on the cheek. But this one… this one held passion and furtive desire and yearning. The both of you most definitely wanted this, it was quite clear by now.

Your senses were overwhelmed in the best way possible. All you could smell was him, the heavy undertone of roasted coffee beans sending your head into a cloudy daze. Your lips were slanted against his hot ones, noses of starkly opposite temperatures bumping against one another in your moment of desperation. You weren’t sure where to place your hands, so you balled them up against his jacket, just close enough to feel the hardness of his chest underneath.

For you, everything was hot, searing with a need for more as his plump, warm lips laid over yours. For him, however, everything was cold. The snow beneath was a mild annoyance, and yet he was willing to bear through it for you. You were equally freezing, but Seonghwa welcomed the cold for once, a dangerous ache that would grow to be lethal if neither of you were careful.

A small, frosty sigh left you when he pulled away for a second to stare at you with those intense eyes of his. You stared back with part-confusion and part-longing, lips agape. That apparently set something off in him, because he sat up with you straddling his hips, hands now encircled around your midriff as he kissed you more passionately, leaning forward so your back arched into him.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Why were you feeling these emotions for a Flamer of all people? Why couldn’t you have just stayed within your own tribe? Turmoil churned about in you as you kissed him in somewhat of a frantic manner. You hated yourself for loving it so much.

The second time he pulled away, you were both gasping for breath, lips swollen and clothes rumpled and askew. You could tell he wanted to kiss you again, and probably a thousand times after that. To be frank, that was all you wanted as well.

But you knew this had to stop. And so, when he leaned forward to capture your lips with his again, you flinched none-too-subtly and slid off his lap. An expression of genuine hurt flickered across his handsome, reddened features. A twinge of guilt gnawed away at your stomach as you got up onto your shaky feet.

“Go home, Seonghwa,” Was all you could find yourself saying with a hoarse voice. “You’re going to catch a cold again.”

You couldn’t look at him anymore. And so, you left him laying crestfallen in the snow, hurriedly making your way back to Icer lands, small blue snowflakes trailing behind you and cold tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

The next day, Seonghwa didn’t show up. You waited by your usual meet-up place, gnawing on your lip anxiously, glancing every which way in hopes of seeing the raven-headed Flamer. In the midst of your worrying turmoil, more and more snowflakes emanated from your skin and it didn’t take long for them to accumulate by your feet, completely covering your boots in a pristilline white blanket. You stepped out of the feather-soft pile, opting to impatiently trudge about in an attempt to steel your nerves.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that night. Seonghwa’s heartbroken expression was imprinted into your mind, leaving you in a mess of guilt and regret and anger.

Why did you have to push him away? Seonghwa, your first non-Icer friend, shoved away as if he meant nothing. You released a frustrated groan, smacking your palm into your forehead.

It made sense that he didn’t want to see you. If you were in his shoes, you probably wouldn’t leave your room and have the light of day touch your face for a whole moon. The idea of Seonghwa upset just didn’t sit right with you. Nonetheless, you could do little else than bide your time for him, however much you hated waiting.

He didn’t show up the next day either. Nor the one after that.

By the fourth day of waiting, you started to feel twinges of discouragement, but you never gave up, determined to set things right with Seonghwa. The niggling thought of him never showing up was one that often pestered you while you patiently awaited his return, although always quickly shoved down into the corner of your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you would do if you never saw him again.

It took just over a week of waiting for him to come back. At that point, you hadn’t thought he’d come back at all, reluctantly accepting that you’ve ultimately ruined your friendship with Seonghwa.

And so, imagine your surprise when his voice rang out through the trees, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Y/N.”

Startled, you flinched so hard that your head hit a branch that hung lowly on the icy tree you were sitting beneath. It reminded you so much of the first time you met him that you couldn’t help but crack a smile after your initial pained grimace.

“Seonghwa,” You gasped, eyes round with shock and mouth agape. “You’re… you’re back!”

The excitement in your voice didn’t go undetected by either of you, but his features were set in stone, unmoving and neutral. Those blazing eyes of his seemed to bore holes into you, and you felt strangely naked underneath his gaze. You noticed that his appearance was more disheveled than ever, eyebags dark and hair not neatly slicked back like usual. He looked broken, but far too proud to admit so.

“Seonghwa…?” You stepped closer, the frosted leafy foliage crumbling under the pressure. This man was someone you deeply cared about, and you knew he felt the same about you.

So why was he staring at you like you meant nothing to him?

A shiver ran down your spine, a sensation that only Seonghwa could bestow upon you. Which was ironic, because the cold feeling that tickled down your spine was ignited by a man with powers of fire and heat.

You and him didn’t belong together. That was clear as day by now.

“Seonghwa,” You mumbled again, reaching out to him once close enough.

He shut his eyes as if looking at you were torture. It stung more than you liked to admit, so you retracted your fingers, clenching them into a fist and dropping them back by your side awkwardly. The air was so tense, so utterly uncomfortable, you could feel the crack in your heart splinter into more branches.

“Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” Your bottom lip trembled. This wasn’t the Seonghwa you’ve grown to be so fond of. This man scared you. You had half a mind to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him. Where did your Seonghwa go?

An angry huff escaped his lips, misting visibly out of his carmine lips. The very ones you kissed a little over a week ago.

“You can’t… just… don’t say my name. Please. We can’t be like that anymore. We can’t do this. We can’t keep seeing each other.” Seonghwa’s stoic mask disintegrated into raw emotion. He looked to be on the verge of tears, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you mirrored the same exact expression.

There was a part of you that wanted to yell and scream and throw sharp icicles at him until he had no choice but to run back to Flamer territory. Anywhere, as long as it was far away from you. The other, more rational part of you, whispered that he was right. After all, you were the one that pushed him away first. It was only fair.

A broken bone won’t heal if you keep putting pressure on the wound. Being a healer, you couldn’t just ignore your own teachings.

But for just once in your life, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to hold Seonghwa tightly in your grasp, no matter how dangerous it was. You wanted to call him yours, and you wanted to be his. You wanted to kiss him again, despite the small action being the ultimate downfall for the both of you.

And so you found yourself croaking out, making sure to emphasize his name, “Seonghwa, you know just as much as I do that there’s something here between us. You can’t just ignore it and toss that all out the window!”

His face screwed up in an effort to keep the onslaught of tears at bay. Perhaps what he felt for you wasn’t yet as strong as what he’d call love, but he wasn’t very far from it. He cared too much for you, so much more than anybody else in his life.

He needed you. And because of that, he had to let you go. Fraternizing with the enemy wasn’t something to be taken lightly. If his tribe knew about this little escapade of his, they’d have his head and would finally have a good enough reason to declare war. Regardless, it was only a matter of time. The Fire Tribe has hated Icers for centuries and centuries, teetering on the brink between neutrality and complete bloodshed.

“We have no choice,” The words were said in a low tone, rumbling deep down in his chest. Seonghwa shuffled closer, so close that you could feel his familiar heat wavering against the ice once again. You longed to reach out and place your hand on his chest, feel his heart thumping against his ribcage frantically, just as yours was. “Do you know what they’d do to you - to us - if our tribes found us together? It’s too risky, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“I’m a healer. I can take care of myself! And we can just stay careful like we always have. Besides, people rarely come into the Grey Forest anymore!” Your words came out fast and jittery and panicked. You thought that you had already come to terms with losing the man that stood in front of you, but you were far from acceptance, you knew that now.

Seonghwa carded a pale hand through dark strands of hair, “I’m sorry, were you not the one that told me to go back home? You started this. You wanted this!” He was so agitated that when he swung his arm back to his side, small crackles of fire lit up his fingers.

Something inside you snapped, “I most definitely did not! It was just… all too sudden and I needed time to think. Now that I’ve already thought, there’s no need for us to run away and never see each other again! You’re overexaggerating, Seonghwa.”

“No, you don’t get it. Don’t you know, Y/N? Our tribes are verging on war. We’re supposed to be enemies, you and I. Don’t be daft!” His voice raised a notch or two louder, and you found yourself shrinking into yourself.

Tears pricked your eyes and you looked away from his fierce gaze, “We don’t have to be a part of that. We can just -”

“Just what? Pretend? We can’t play picnic in the forest and act like our people aren’t planning to slaughter each other!”

“You know what?” You shouted so loudly that the birds nesting on treetops fluttered away, a mass of dark wings and agitated squawks. “If you want to walk away from this relationship, from me, then go ahead! I won’t stop you. Fuck you, Seonghwa. Fuck you for throwing this away the moment it became something more.”

“You were the first to push away!” He protested, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Well, I’m sorry!” You cried out, furiously swiping away the tears that dribbled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I was scared! I’m willing to try again, but you’re not giving me the chance. I waited for you every day, you know.”

“I know. I saw,” He said, suddenly quiet. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

The two of you stared at each other defiantly, heavy breaths misting the air in front of you. His nose was tinted a deep pink, no doubt because of the cold.

“I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said after a long while. “And you shouldn’t come back here. Ever. I need you to know, Y/N. I’m doing this because I care about you. I expect you to do the same for me.”

Then, after casting you a forlorn expression, he tore his blazing eyes away and stiffly swiveled around in the snow. A gust of wind tousled his hair and he blew out a sigh of pale white mist. The cold made his nose red, and you subconsciously noticed the way he shivered slightly, brushing snowflakes off his sleeve. You’d miss that.

You’d miss him.

His heat grew fainter as his long strides took him further away from you. Your tears had crystallized on your cheeks uncomfortably, a frozen reminder of what you’d lost. You had half the mind to storm right up to Seonghwa and force him to stay here, by your side. That was the child speaking within you, however, and you were no longer a child.

Flicking the solidified salt water on your cheeks away, you did just the same as Seonghwa had minutes ago, trudging your way back to Icer lands. Little did either of you know, the two of you cried fresh tears along the whole journey back.

The last time you ever stepped foot in the Grey Forest was just the day after. Your eyes were puffy and aching, hair a terrible mess, and a wax-sealed envelope was tightly clutched in your hand.

There was a chance that Seonghwa would never come back. In fact, it was most probable that he’d never get the precariously written letter you left by the usual meeting place, considering what he told you yesterday.

Fond memories sunk its sharpened claws into you, stealing away your breath as you cupped both hands over your mouth, overwhelmed in every way possible. You were far too drained to cry, having emptied away all your tears the day before.

And so, you brushed stray snowflakes off the periwinkle-hued wax stamp, placing it down by the tree stump where Seonghwa usually sat.

Then you muttered a quiet, broken goodbye, stomping back to Icer lands. You were never going to see Seonghwa again.

Dear Seonghwa,

I know you told me to never come back. I won’t, I promise. I just wanted to leave the letter because… we never properly got to say goodbye, did we?

Well, congrats, you big dummy. You’re right. You always were, and you always are. We were never supposed to be friends. I mean, I suppose we’re enemies now, aren’t we? It was quite the foolish fantasy we had going on there, huh? I get it, we have to stay loyal to our respective tribes, we can’t risk getting caught, so on so forth. I just hope that when war is declared (which doesn’t seem to be long from now, to be quite honest), I won’t see you on the battlefield. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.

So, I guess this is goodbye. It’s a little hard to believe that I won’t ever get to see your stupid face again. Remember when I threw a snowball at you so hard that it broke your nose? You panicked and blood went splattering everywhere and it didn’t stop until I got you to calm down. For a highly-ranked Flamer soldier, I’d expect you to be less squeamish at the sight of your own blood. It’s alright, though. As a healer myself, blood still freaks me out just a bit.

I thought I ruined your pretty face for all the poor ladies and gents who were mad in love with you back at the Flame Tribe, and I felt so guilty. And then you smiled! I remember feeling envy and astonishment at the same time because how the hell could one look pretty while smiling through a broken, bloody nose?

I’m glad I didn’t ruin your face, though. You’d probably get really mad at me if I did. But you would’ve forgiven me eventually, right?

Frankly, I don’t know if I deserve your forgiveness for what I did. And no, I’m not talking about hurting your precious face (they say a once-broken nose makes a man more attractive!). I’m sorry for pushing you away, Seonghwa. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was scared and I needed time to think. I hope you understand that. If you don’t, that’s okay as well.

If I could rewind time, I wouldn’t have stopped kissing you. I could’ve carried on for days and days and days on end. Did you know that you’re the second person I’ve ever kissed? Don’t ask about the first, drunk Wooyoung isn’t really something to brag about. Well, for the record, you were the first kiss I actually enjoyed. Congrats.

Of course, all this doesn’t mean that it was entirely my fault. I waited for you for a week, and you did nothing but hide behind trees and watch. That was real shitty of you, to put it plainly.

I’ll miss you, though. I’ve never felt this way about any Icer and I doubt I ever will. Of all people to set my sights on, it just had to be a Flamer. What rotten luck we have.

Goodbye forever, Seonghwa. Stay safe, alright? For my sake.

With much love,

Y/N.

Seonghwa read the letter through so quickly that his pupils seemed to be moving at lightning speed. Then, with a numbed heart, he read it a second time, this time much slower.

By the third time he reread each of your carefully handwritten words, warm tears of salt water were running over his cheeks. His face had grown considerably hotter, the salty liquid steaming misty tendrils against his skin. He was angry. So, so ridiculously angry. At himself, at this stupid rivalry between the tribes, at you for being so goddamn perfect. Of course you’d managed to squeeze in jaunts and jokes in a farewell note.

There was a part of him that wished he’d never come back to the Grey Forest and found the letter. Fat droplets of his tears trickled down his jaw and soaked through the parchment, marring the intricate ink characters. With a gentle sigh, Seonghwa brushed the dampness away and stiffly flicked his wrist.

The letter burst into glowing orange flames. And Seonghwa watched on, stifling down the urge to break down into a fit of chest-wracking sobs, until your goodbye was nothing but a measly pile of blackened ashes on his palm.

#ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez #park seonghwa #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez x you #ateez fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #ateez fantasy au #ateez imagines #ateez angst #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa x you #ateez fanfics

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svnflowervol666 · 3 years

Note

you said send in some headcannons so how about some silly/kinda pesty bf harry <3😔🤌

Omg pls I love pesty bf!Harry. This is super short but I loved writing these so much!

Word Count: 1.2k

NSFW

The first thing that comes to mind is cold feet

No matter how many times you tell him how much you hate it, he’d always either wrap his freezing cold feet around yours or reach his legs over in bed to poke you with his toes just to get a rise out of you

I also think he is the type of person to scream bloody murder from across the house and when you come running to see if he’d fallen down the stairs or cut his finger off in the kitchen, he just looks at you and says some shit like, “Come cuddle with me”

100% is the type of bitch to send you pictures of rotten fruit he sees at the farmer’s market or a squished bug he saw on the train and be like, “Looks like you :(((”

Speaking of annoying text messages

He would send you the most grotesque and haunted memes in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason

And would call you after an hour asking why you haven’t responded to them

He’d also be the type of boyfriend to ask you what you’re doing and when you say you’re taking a bath or getting dressed, ironically reply with, “Without me? :(”

Texts you the morning after he leaves your house and thanks you for the head you gave him the night before

Claims it was “some of your best work yet” every single time

Sends you pictures of his outfits and asks, “Does my dick look massive in these pants?”

All of the pictures of him in your phone are ones of him giving you the middle finger because he cannot take anything seriously ever

When you’re driving somewhere, he’d yell at you at an unreasonable volume to be quiet because his favorite song is coming up next and it’s just Get Low by the Lil John

And he knows every single word and tries to shake his ass in the driver’s seat

Sneaks up behind you and slaps you on the ass for no reason

So hard that it hurts and causes an argument sometimes but he always wiggles his way out of getting the silent treatment

I feel like he likes to people-watch, but he’d also lean over to you after every couple that walks by and whisper some shit like, “Do you think she pegs him?” or, “I bet they only have sex with the lights off.”

He definitely steals food from your plate or wants a bite of whatever you’re eating even if he told you he didn’t want it

“It tastes better 'cos it’s yours” lookin’ ass

When you’re eating a popsicle or a lollipop or anything that can remotely be considered sexual, he’d start moaning obnoxiously and mumble something like, “Fuck, takin’ it so well.”

He mocks you with the most annoying valley girl accent even if that’s not how you talk

Simply just to be an asshole

You’d always come home to him digging through your stuff

Using your skincare products or rifling through your drawers

He’d hold up a pair of your underwear and ask you why you haven’t shown him those yet with the dumbest little pout on his face

I also feel like he’d barge in on you in the bathroom instead of waiting for you to come out

If you’re washing your face or brushing your teeth but he has to pee, too bad

The other way around too if you're the one using the bathroom but he’s looking for a specific bottle of nail polish under your sink smhhh

He always sits on the counter and watches you do your makeup and asks you questions about every little thing you do

“What’s that for? What does it do? How is that color different than the one you just used? It looks the same t’ me.”

“How do you not poke your eye out with that?”

Winces when you pull your fake lashes off

If he even slightly chips the color on his nails, he’d whine for you to redo them until you finally cave and fix it for him

He’d walk over to you on the couch and sit right on top of you with his entire body weight, regardless of how you’re sitting

He breathes heavy and chews loudly on purpose when you’re watching a movie to see how long it takes you to glare at him

If you’re playing with his hair and you stop, he’ll find your hand and put it back on his head to ask you to keep going without actually asking

I feel like he begs to be the little spoon

Even if you’re not sleeping over at each other’s house, he’d text you and ask you to come over and spoon him because he’s cold with the pleading face emoji

When you’re both at a party that he didn’t want to go to, he’d pull you aside after some time and whisper into your ear, “Alright, you said hi to everyone....can we please go home and have sex now? M’ dick’s gettin’ lonely”

When he’s sick.....he is the Biggest Baby

Even if it’s just a cold, he’d act like he’s dying just so you pay attention to him

“Doctor’s orders were cough medicine, tons of fluids, and back rubs from m’ girlfriend.”

I can’t explain this, but.... I know he would try to hold toes with you (I’m so twisted for this I know)

Would scribble random notes on all of your things

Like your grocery list

Bread, tomatoes, cheese, pickles, ... magnum XXL condoms for Harry :-)

Or the list of phone numbers you keep on your fridge

Doctor’s #, vet’s #, car service #, ... for when you need your ass eaten

He’d absolutely interrupt whatever you’re doing to tell you that he finally found the thing that he saw on TikTok at the store

And when he’s drunk he’d try to get you to learn how to renegade with him

And since I mentioned drunk Harry

He is so loud and obnoxious that it’s unbearable

He’s one of those boyfriends that starts yelling about how much he loves you and will scream at you from across the room just to wave at you and say, “Hiiiiiiiiii!”

The biggest hype man and would squeal when the DJ plays some shit like Kim Petras or Mr. Brightside

Even though he pretends to hate it whenever he hears it anywhere else

He also announces to the room that he’s going home to “make love” to his girlfriend whenever you’re leaving

He’s extremely stubborn to put to bed when he’s that drunk

Claiming that he doesn’t need water because he’s a big boy or that he’s fine and still wants to fuck you even though he’s falling asleep as he’s talking

When you’re finally both lying down and trying to sleep, he rolls over and starts spewing the weirdest nonsense

“Do you think Lewis and Clark fucked? I mean, they definitely did right? I feel like they did. There’s no way they didn’t.”

“You’ve never faked it with me, have you? I don’t think you have, but you’d tell me if you did, wouldn’t you? You acted kinda weird when we fucked in that tent, but that was real, right?” and then get upset when you start laughing at him

“Can we go swimming tomorrow? I wanna go swimming tomorrow.”

I know he wouldn’t do all of this, but annoying bf!Harry lives in my head rent free so I will simply pretend he is like this in real life to some degree

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcanon #harry styles headcanons #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #bf!harry #asks

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts

PART 11:

It’s been a long day. A long, arduous, day of plastering on your best customer service voice and smiling pretty for each and every person that walked through your door. Luckily though, your last patient was waiting just behind the door. Rubbing a tired hand down your face, you stride in, trying to look cheerful.

“Hello! So I see from your chart that you’ve-“

The sight that greets you is not what’s on your clipboard. It leaves you stopped in your tracks- trying to figure out why there was a child where a grown woman should’ve been sitting. You check your paper again, making sure you’ve got the right room. You do, and that just confuses you all over again.

The little boy is dirtied, grime lining his cheeks and staining his clothes- he is clearly not the middle aged woman who was on your schedule for today. His hair is a little matted, oily and very obviously unkempt, but that's not what worries you the most. No, what worries you the most is his skin.

All across his forearms, and down his legs is strange tearing. It's like the skin as been split from the inside out, leaving behind a pattern of angry red scabbing and pink scars. They're not clean slices either; the edges are clearly jagged. The cuts were laced together, overlapping and intersecting in a pattern not consistent with any blade or claw you'd ever seen before, and you had seen almost everything.

The sight leaves you reeling, but you don’t falter. A measly schedule mix-up wouldn’t throw you off this easily, especially not with how clearly this little boy needs your help.

"Alright, do you think you could give me your arm?" You ask gently, trying your best to sound friendly. You're not sure if it really matters though- the boy looks straight past you. Focuses his eyes on the wall behind you, like you're not even there. "Can I have your arm? Just to clean up the wound, I promise. It looks like it hurts a lot, and I'd love to help you feel better."

The boy looks at you then, and you're horrified by what you see. He looks at you, big gray eyes and dark eyelashes, but there's nothing there. Absolutely nothing. It's like looking into a void, and all you can see is your own reflection in his irises. It leaves you unsettled. Itching in your own skin, almost tempted to look away.

The boy puts his arm out. Holds it completely straight, locking his elbow robotically. His face stays perfectly impassive. He doesn't even blink while the open cut visibly shifts with his sudden movement.

"I- alright, I'm just gonna clean around the wound. Sound good?" You try again, taking his tiny arm in your hands.

Under your fingers tips all you can feel is skin and bones. He's practically skeletal, and you can't see any veins under skin that was already paper-thin. You're not sure who this boy is, where he came from- but you could tell from a mile away; he didn't have anybody looking out for him.

The thought made your heart break, made your fingers itch with the need to take all his pain away. Fueled by that, you did your best to clean his wound quickly.

It was a fairly large wound, but it wasn't very deep. That would have been a bright side except when you took a closer look, this new cut resembled all the old scars lining his arms and legs. Whatever did this to him, whatever caused the tearing and the weird pattern of scarring, had been doing it for a long time. A disturbingly long time considering the state of the rest of his body.

The current wound is no longer actively bleeding, but it definitely isn’t scabbed yet. Its vulnerable to the air and to infection, so you quickly start cleaning it. The boy doesn’t move the entire time- not even wincing when you spray disinfectant on the cut. It’s the strangest thing you’d ever seen. It was like the boy wasn’t even in the room with you at all. Like he was somewhere else entirely.

He only needs a few stitches, for the broadest part of the cut, but the boy doesn’t react when you tell him that either. He doesn’t flinch when you smear the cold numbing gel, nor does he even blink when you thread your needle. He watches the entire time though- empty eyes tracking each time the needle sinks into his skin. The process is over and done with in minutes, but nothing feels simple. Everything feels wrong and your fingers still itch red-hot beneath your gloves.

A part of you is tempted to use your quirk, just for a second, to see what he was feeling. To try and connect with him at all, since none of your earlier attempts had even remotely worked. But you don’t, you don’t do that- even was you begin cleaning up. You keep your hands to yourself as you wrap up the extra gauze, terrified of what you’d feel if you touched him.

The boy suddenly murmurs something, voice hardly a whisper.

You can’t make out his words- not from where you are a few steps away. So you near a little bit, taking care not to scare him with any sudden movements. He watches you, mouth pressed into a neutral line until you’re close. Then he chews his cheek, takes a deep breath and speaks.

“I-I’m sorry.” The boy whispers.

He shoots forward grabbing onto your wrist with tiny fingers. A chill like you’ve never experienced before runs through you.

It’s like your blood’s gone glacial- freezing up and stalling the flow in your veins. Goosebumps cover your skin almost immediately, teeth threatening to chatter after hardly a few seconds. You’re frozen in place, fear squeezing your heart in your chest, and all your can do is look at the small child holding on to your forearm.

His face is no longer neutral. His eyes are staring right back at you, wide and unbelieving. You can see now that his eyes aren’t translucent gray. They are blue. Pure blue when they catch the white light from the ceiling above and not the dull grey of the floor tiles. You only catch it for a second, then he’s dropping his head, throwing your arm away from him.

“I’m sorry.” He says again.

You spin on your heels, eyes wide. He doesn’t sound like a child. Throughout your time at the hospital, you’d seen many children come and go through the doors, but he didn’t sound like any of them. He sounded withered, tired, like even speaking took the wind out of him. It was a hollowness that had your heart stopping in your chest.

Then he kicks his foot behind him, grabbing at a handle shoved between his heel and the back of the shoe. All you see is the glint of the blade as he unsheathes it and your blood runs even colder than before. You bring your hands up, defensive and terrified but he just blinks at you. Blinks at you and doesn’t even flinch as he drags the serrated blade up the entire length of his forearm. Blood pools around the wound and drips onto the floor, forming an unnaturally perfect circle in front of him. You’re freaked, but the boy is passive. Passive even as the blood congeals, turning thicker and darker until it’s black.

He steps forward, into the center of the black puddle. The void eats him whole.

Your heart lurches in your chest, pulse speeding up, as you watch the void begin to shift once more. The boy’s blood retreats into itself, twisting and pulsating until it’s completely gone. The floor is spotless, and you’re left suffocating.

You can’t remember leaving the room, only bursting through the backdoors and into the cool night. You brace an arm against the brick wall, and snap at the waist gasping for air.

“Oi- leech. Leech.” He calls, and when you look over he’s suddenly right next to you. “What’s up with you, huh? Called your name. What, couldn’t fuckin’ hear me or somethin’?”

You hear his voice now, but it doesn’t do anything to quell the panic. Your heart is racing. “Bakugou. I need to-“ Your breath catches. “Fuck, there was this kid and he- cuts all up his arm and then he took out a knife and s-sliced-“

“A knife.” Bakugou repeats, eyes like wildfire even in the dark. “Where—what the fuck are you talking about? Slow down, can’t understand a damn thing.”

You try to listen to him, you really do, but even repeating the words makes you feel sick.

Throughout your years as a nurse, you’d seen a lot of gore. You’d seen more injuries, and more blood, and more horrific aftermaths than you could recall, but something about this boy made you sick. Maybe it was his small frame- how he couldn’t be any older than 11. Maybe it all the scars lining his arms. Maybe it was his quirk. The way he had to gravely injure himself just to use it.

You try to explain, but the words are coming out wrong. They’re clipped and panicked and Bakugou looks unhappier with each new one punched from your lungs.

“Stop- stop.” He says, fists clenched at his sides. “Did he come at you? Try to get you with the knife?”

“No- I- he got himself. Bakugou, he took the knife and cut himself. And all the blood, it just- it pooled on the floor and turned black and then he stepped in it!” You’re gasping now, hands out in front of you making a wide circle to demonstrate. “He disappeared and I don’t know where he went and I- he was bleeding so much. He was bleeding and he was covered in all these scars and he just cut himself and didn’t- and didn’t-”

You watch Bakugou curl his lip, shifting on his feet. He doesn’t say anything. Not for a long moment, and then he’s surging forward, large hands on your shoulders and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You need to breathe.” He says, voice quiet. Like he meant it to carry for just the two of you. “You need to breathe. Can’t do anything if you pass out in the street. So breathe. Just breathe.”

Bakugou squeezes your shoulders, thumbs digging into your collarbone until you look up at him. His eyes are wild, like solar flares, darting back and forth across your face. It’s obvious he doesn’t like what he sees. Still, you try to follow him. Try to look to his own ribcage for guidance until your world stops spinning.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. With his hands on your shoulders, trying to remember how to breathe. It sort of feels like forever.

“I- I need to,” You say suddenly. There’s something caught in the back of your throat, causing you to clear it before speaking once more. “I need to do something. Find him. I-I need to find him. I can’t. He’s bleeding.”

“I know. But you’re staying here. You can’t be reckless.”

Bakugou’s eyes are still blazing, but his voice isn’t like you’ve ever heard it before. It’s quiet, even, just low enough for you and you alone to hear. His thumbs on your collarbone are tracking gentle circles- you wonder if he knows he’s doing it at all.

“You’re gonna go home.” He says. “I’ll take you home, and then I’ll go back out and look. But you’re not goin’ anywhere like this. It’s reckless. Understand?”

Every bone in your body screams for you to fight- to tear off down the alley shouting and screaming until you found the little boy that so desperately needed help. But that seems impossible with the way Bakugou is looking at you now- so sure and certain of his plan. Like there’s no room for argument. Even if you tried to run, you’re sure he’d just catch you.

“You’ll look?” You ask quietly, all wide eyes looking up at him. “I- I need you to promise me. Promise me. Please.”

He squeezes your shoulders once, averting his eyes. “Yep. I will. Promise.”

Then he’s retreating like he’s been burnt, spinning away from you. He drops his hands by his sides, flexing his fingers, and starts off down the alley.

You figure that Bakugou expects you to follow, but your shaking makes that a tall order to fill. Still, you put one foot in front of the other, trying not to see pooling blood in each shadow that lines the empty street.

“What’s he look like?” Bakugou asks suddenly, just a few feet in front of you. “How old?”

“Um, blue eyes, but they look grey unless you really see them. Dark hair. He wouldn’t say his age, or anything really, but he’s definitely no older than 11. Maybe 10.”

That thought has your heart lurching in your chest, spinning your world on it’s axis once more.

“Why- why would he- he was covered in all those scars,” You start, running a heavy hand down your face. “They were from him. His blade- because his quirk is with his blood and- oh god, he was doing that to himself.”

Your heart collapses in on itself. It sits heavy at the bottom of your ribcage, weighing your entire body down with lead. It’s like you’re carrying a mountain with each step, and all you can think about is empty blue eyes and angry red scars.

“Why would he do that?” You ask quietly, eyes following your feet closely just to keep you moving. “Hurt himself just to do that? He can’t want to- there’s no way. Someone has to be making him- someone has to-“

Bakugou spins around, eyes like steel. “Kids’ll do anything to feel powerful.” He flicks his gaze down to his own hands, fingers twitching. Then he shakes his head, begins walking forward once more. “Even hurt themselves and others.”

“So you don’t think- you think he’s doing that all by himself? He can’t, that’s not, it can’t-“

“It can.” His voice is quiet, devoid of all the explosive inflection you’ve come to expect from him. “Trust me, I know.”

Bakugou’s walking in front of you, clad in his hero costume. His black mask is intact, but even without it you’re not sure he’d let you see his eyes. They gave too much away.

Bakugou keeps moving forward, hardly even turns back to make sure you’re still following. He’s quiet, strangely so, and you’re not used to this kind of silence with him. It’s odd- makes the already inky streets bleed darker shadows, every twist and turn heightening your anxiety. You walk a little closer to him.

He turns his head, red eyes catching you close behind him. His lip twitches up for a moment and he slows. Broad shoulder’s slot into place next to yours, and you swear the streets get a little less scary.

“I’ll find him.” He says. “I will.”

Then the silence hangs thick and heavy over the both of you.

Before you know it, you’re opening the door to your apartment building with tired limbs. Bakugou stays back, but you can feel his eyes watch you. Even through the glass when you shut the door behind you. You give him a half-hearted wave but it doesn’t feel right even to you.

You enter you apartment, immediately flicking all the lights on, tilting your lamp until it’s shooting light through every dark shadow. You know that’s not how it works- that the child used blood and not darkness to teleport, but it still helps ease your mind a bit. Anything to get rid of the blackness at the edges of your vision- the blackness that reminds you so much of pooling tar.

Curling your knees up to your chest, you press your back into the cushions of your couch. You wonder when the fear started settling in. At what point on the walk home that the adrenaline faded- when you started wanting the boy and his blood to disappear instead of being found.

You glance at the clock and then to your balcony door, rinse and repeat for the next few hours. Awake and fearful, practically begging Bakugou to show up. As the world seemed to grow more dangerous, you felt more and more helpless without him.

It was a thought that left you feeling even sicker than before, but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt at the sound of knocking.

“Hey,” You yawn, tiredly, sliding the door open for Bakugou. “You find him?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” He admits, brushing past you. “No fuckin’ trace. You sure he was a kid?”

“Positive.”

“And he was covered in scars?”

“Mhm.”

He drops on your couch, tipping his head all the way back with a groan. “I didn’t see any shitty brats. Sorry.”

The apology comes out sharp, a little sarcastic, but his eyes give him away. He is sorry. At least, as much as you can expect from him.

You drop down onto the other side of the couch, tucking your legs up close to your chest. There’s warmth clinging to the cushions, left-over from where you’d been sitting, but you’re still freezing- skin left with a perpetual chill.

Bakugou lets his head loll to the side, rolling against the back of your couch, until he’s looking directly at you. “You alright, leech?”

A part of you wants to lie- but you figure it wouldn’t do much good. He’d just see right through you anyways.

“No.” You say softly, winding your arms around your legs. “Sat here the whole time. Awake. Thinking.”

He looks at you a little strangely then, shifting until he’s sitting straight up.

“Something bad ‘s happening, I think.” Your voice comes out hollow. “With the boy. He’s- I’ve never seen anything like that. He said sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Mhm. Sorry. To me. And then he grabbed my arm.” You scratch at your arms, trying to keep the itch in your skin away. “I don’t- I think he knew. About my quirk somehow. He touched my skin. Under my sleeve.”

“What?” Bakugou jolts forward, eyes crazed. “Tell me again, from the fuckin’ top. Don’t leave a single goddamn thing out.”

So you recount it, once more, paying extra attention to the way Bakugou reacts to each one of your words. His eyebrows knit together, eyes hardly leaving your face for even a moment. It’s not until you explain the way you’d felt, when the boy had grabbed you, that Bakugou clenches his fist. His knuckles go white as he grits his teeth.

“He fuckin’ knew.” His voice is venomous, steely and serious. “He knew- but that doesn’t- I sat out. Watched- everything. Fuckin’ kid couldn’ta slipped past me. Must’ve come in the same way he got out.”

“You were outside?”

You question is swallowed up as Bakugou stands, gravely voice steamrolling entirely over your own.

“Fucker knew,” He seethes, crossing his arms. “He fuckin’ knew, and he got past me. Gonna- gonna find him. Swear to fuck-“

“He’s a child.” You try to protest, but Bakugou isn’t listening. “Not some crazy super villain and-“

He’s practically worked himself up into a frenzy now, muttering threats under his breath while he paces. You’re not exactly sure why he’s so upset, but he looks at you and suddenly there’s no mistaking the funny little crease in his eyebrows.

Worry.

You can help yourself then, standing and nearing him. Reaching out your hand until your gloved fingers make contact with his forearm.

“He’s just a child.” You say, eyes wide and imploring. “And he said sorry. It’s- I think he didn’t want to. Someone’s making him. So it’s not his fault, alright? He didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

Bakugou flicks his eyes down, to where your fingers are resting on his skin. He scrunches his nose up, but he doesn’t shake you off.

“This time.” He says, red eyes staring back into yours, his voice just as serious as before. “This time you’re fine. But it’s not- there’s not gonna be a fuckin’ next time, alright? I won’t- it’s just not gonna fuckin’ happen.”

You think he’s finished, but then Bakugou is flaring his nostrils, and clearing his throat. “‘m gonna find this fuckin’ kid, okay? Swear it.”

“I know.” You say, because you do know. When he looks at you like that, it’s clear there’s never any other possibility. Nothing but the future he carves out for himself. “I know you will.”

Bakugou nods, and after that it takes only seconds until he’s deflating. You’re almost sure you’ve forgotten your gloves then, when his chest settles and the angry red seeps out of him complexion so suddenly. But when you look down, you see nothing but silk where your skin should be.

“You didn’t sleep.” He finally says. “Kid used up some of your quirk, and you’re not fuckin’ tired?”

You look up at him. “No. I- I am. Couldn’t fall asleep though. Freaked out and everything, you know?”

“You’re home now.”

“I know.” You say, finally stepping back and turning away. Wringing your hands together, you settle back into your spot on the couch. “I tried, earlier, to sleep, but I just keep seeing stuff. In the shadows, I mean.”

He looks at you a little weird, hardly for a second, before pursing his lips and shifting his eyes away.

“I know, I know, it’s dumb. Childish, probably.” You backtrack, a nervous, tired laugh leaving your lips. “Couldn’t help it though. Still can’t- actually, I have no idea how I’m gonna sleep tonight.”

He shifts on his feet, obviously uncomfortable. “You scared of the dark now or somethin’?”

It sounds even more ridiculous when he puts it’s like that- when he phrases it as something so minuscule. But it doesn’t feel tiny to you. The fear isn’t manageable at all when you think about retreating to your bedroom, cowering away from all it’s dark corners and crevices.

Well, you reason, tomorrow was a day off for you. Losing out on a night of sleep is probably the least expensive loss you could’ve suffered tonight.

“Maybe I’ll just stay up.” You finally decide, rubbing at your eyes. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna stay up, I think.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be fuckin’ ridiculous. You’re fallin’ asleep right now.”

“I’m not. I’m good.”

You lie and you’re sure Bakugou can see through it. Still, he says nothing, choosing instead to bide his time. But with each passing minute he squints his eyes, knits his eyebrows together a little more with each yawn that you try to suppress. He gives it another few seconds before swearing under his breath, spinning around until you’re only looking at his back.

“J-just sleep there.” He grumbles, pinched and tight while he clenches his fists at his sides. “‘s your fuckin’ house.”

“I can’t,” You yawn, once again trying to hide it behind your hand. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll sleep later, ‘s fine. Stop complanin’.”

“I said it’s fine. ‘n besides, I’ll stay up, yeah? Nobody’s gonna fuckin’ get ya.” His voice is a little soft, and you think Bakugou knows it too, because then he’s clearing his throat. Loudly. Making a show of setting his shoulders back until he looks intimidating again. “A-and if you’re not sleepin’ in the next 5 fuckin’ minutes, you don’t gotta worry about anyone anyways because ‘m gonna kill you myself. So go the fuck to sleep already. Leech.”

You can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth. Nor the second, louder laugh that tumbles from your mouth when he whips his head around at the sound.

“I get it.” You say gently. “I’ll sleep. But please don’t murder me while I’m at it, okay?”

Bakugou smiles something tiny and satisfied, but he covers it up by turning back around. By sinking to the floor a few feet in front of you, crossing his legs beneath him. He keeps his eyes trained forward, palm unturned and clearly ready to explode whatever lurked in the dark.

For lack of better words, he looked like a guard dog. The most blood thirsty one you’d ever seen, maybe, but that still didn’t change the fact that as long as he was around, nobody out to get you was leaving the room unscathed.

It was thought that settled your mind, had your heart slowing down in your chest. Enough to have you easing down into the cushions, stretching out on your couch with a tired sigh.

You try not to think about who is sitting directly in front of you. Try not to think about how you can’t tell if the blanket you’re using smells like him, or if he’s just sitting too close to tell. Try not to think about how easy it’d be to whisper something tiny-a thank you maybe, for everything he’s doing.

But you know he’d hate that. You know he’d pinch his face up, like you’d just burned him, and that knowledge of him only has you warming a little more.

So you pull the blanket up around your shoulders and settle instead for watching the back of his head as you drift off. The way he never stops moving- making sure to look at each and every corner of the room as often as he can.

//-//

oh my god y'all semester's finally over,, i cAN DO THINGS I LIKE AGAIN - pls my blog has been so dead for the last like, month but i swear im bout to revitalize tf out of it babey !!!! ;))))))

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful @falloutgirlzz

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou mha #bakugou bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bakugou fic #bakugou imagine #bnha fic #mha fic

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 9)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, angst, fluff

Part Summary: Y/N goes to see JJ after the party and she begins to think everything will work out

Masterlist

The Pogues are gathered around the bonfire, chatting over a couple of beers and joints. JJ keeps checking his phone every few minutes, wondering why you haven't texted him yet. You agreed for him to pick you up at your house at eleven, but he wants to wait for your text saying you're home. He's considered just going over anyway, assuming you're already there since dinner would've ended at least two hours ago. Before he has the chance to even rise to his feet to go, you and Topper roll up the driveway. None of the Pogues recognize the gray BMW, except Sarah.

“Is that Topper dropping off Y/N?” She frowns in confusion as the car comes to a steady halt at the end of the gravel drive.

Pope presses his fingers to his temples, wide-eyed. “Am I hallucinating?”

“Okay, enough weed for me," Kiara declares, passing the joint to John B.

Topper stops the car and turns to you. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you nod, collecting your bag between your legs.

“Call or text if you need me,” he instructs, still somewhat reluctant to drop you off.

“Will do,” you offer him a reassuring smile.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow," he complies, leaning over the divider and planting a quick peck to your cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you return, granting him a kiss on the cheek as well. You climb out of Topper's car, walking toward the fire pit where JJ and everyone watch you utterly dumbfounded. “Hi guys,” you greet, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Topper knows his way around The Cut?” John B pokes fun.

“Did he drop you off to scope out the place?” Kiara grumbles.

“He didn’t want me driving," you explain as you take a seat next to a silent JJ. "We went to Kelce’s for a little after dinner and I’ve been drinking."

“What a gentleman,” Sarah mumbles sarcastically.

“Hi Baby,” JJ greets you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Hi,” you grin, leaning in and planting a kiss to his lips to which he reciprocates.

“I could’ve picked you up,” he whispers against your lips.

“I know," you state, parting from him for a second. "I just didn’t want to make you do the drive."

“I’m surprised Topper let you out of the car,” Sarah snickers.

“We came to an understanding,” you describe vaguely.

“Oh yeah?" Kiara raises a brow. "What’s that?”

“We’re just friends,” you reply confidently.

“I don’t just kiss my friends goodbye...” John B mumbles under his breath.

“We’re just friends," you reiterate, starring the boy down warningly.

“You bet you are,” JJ agrees, pulling you into his side. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too," you blush, peering over to meet his gaze.

“Movie anyone?” John B suggests suddenly rising to his feet.

“Yes!” Sarah bursts.

“Comedy!” Pope votes.

“Romance!” Kiara challenges.

“Actually," JJ sighs, standing up next to you. "I was going to head to bed, wanna come?” He asks as he glances down at you.

You hum. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired actually."

____________________________________________

You and JJ lay in bed, facing each other as you talk about everything under the sun. You could've watched the movie considering you've been up for hours talking, not once trying to fall asleep. Yet, spending hours laying in bed, talking to JJ, is a much better pass time.

“Fish tacos from The Wreck,” JJ answers without a moment's hesitation.

“Ooo, you know I’ve never been there,” you confess, intrigued.

“Really?!" JJ's eyes grow wide. "We’ll have to go ASAP! Kie’s dad makes the best hush puppies,” he dramatically gestures with his hands.

You giggle, “sounds amazing.”

“Okay, now your turn." JJ's arm drapes over you and rubs his hand up and down your back.

“Hmm," you hum, thinking it over. "My grandma’s chicken and dumplings. She always made it when I was sick and it’s like a warm hug.”

“Yum," he grins. “Dream vacation?”

“Anywhere with a beach,” you answer easily. “I love to travel, but I also love the ocean so can’t be too far from it. You?”

“Surfing trip around the world," he nods, clearly having thought about it before. "I’m talking Australia, Japan, Brazil, all over.”

“Surfing world tour. Very surfer Pogue of you,” you tease playfully.

“Would a Kook Princess like to come?” He offers with a sly smirk as his eyes fall to the small space between you.

“Sure I’ll follow,” you accept with a soft smile.

JJ jokingly nudges you on the shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Stop," he chuckles. "If anything you pick the places and I follow. Follow you around the world.”

“You would?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smirk.

“What’s that Carol King song?” He tries to recall and whispers some of the words. “Where you lead...”

“I will follow," you add in a sing-songy tone.

“Anywhere!” You both say in unison to each other, causing you two to laugh.

JJ exhales deeply, catching his breath after laughing.“Talking to you is so easy it’s scary," he confesses, taking your hand in his between you two.

“I never felt so understood until I met you,” you tell him.

His brows scrunch together as he watches your hands move around one another. “You don’t think Topper understands you?”

“I do... to an extent,” you shrug, not fully convinced. “He’s known me longer, so he knows why I am the way I am, but he’s not necessarily accepting of all of it.”

“What do you mean?” JJ wonders aloud.

“If I told him that I don’t want to go to every party and rather stay in, he’d wonder why. If I said I don’t like the Club and rather spend a day on some remote island somewhere he wouldn’t relate. I could tell you that I want to move to Guam and you’d be game for it. Some days I don’t want to have any responsibilities or social obligations which confuses Topper. He’s satisfied where he is. He’s satisfied being stationary and though I’m told I have everything, I don’t want any of it." You pause, finding yourself coming to a hard conclusion. You peer up at JJ who's eyes have left your hands and pour into you. "There has to be more right? There has to be something different out there.”

“Life beyond the OBX?" He seek to clarify to which you nod. "Yeah, there’s an entire world outside of here!”

“That’s what I want..." You whisper. "Something entirely my own and somewhere where no one knows me.”

“Maybe we should explore it together,” he smiles gently with content. “I mean, as long as it’s okay for one person to know you.”

“You don’t count," you blush.

JJ releases your hand, bringing his own to caress your cheek. “I want to see the world with you."

You lean into his touch, his warmth making you feel safe, seen, and understood. “I think that can be arranged...”

JJ shakes his head, as though he's come to a profound realization. “You’re everything to me." His words slip by in a whisper as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing his statement.

You run your fingers through JJ's hair, pulling him in deeper. He smiles against your lips, loving your reaction. He moves to hover over you, encompassing you with his body. You take matters into your own hands and press JJ down to lay down beside you. Swiftly, you move to straddle him. A grunt leaves him and you cower slightly.

"Did I hurt you?!" You nearly panic.

“No, no,” he’s quick to assure you, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair back.

You hadn’t noticed when he got into bed, the bruises and cuts scattered across his torso. You remember them from the Boneyard and in the hot tub. You had thought perhaps they were from Topper.

JJ can tell that your mind isn’t satisfied. "What else is troubling you?" He frowns. "Babe, look at me, please."

"If these weren't Topper, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it,” he scrunches his face with a shake of the head. “Don't worry, it's taken care of,” he tries to change the subject, reaching up to kiss you.

You gasp. "Did someone do this to you?!" You quickly realize.

"Y/N..."JJ exhales deeply.

"JJ, I have to know!” You argue. “If someone-"

"It was my dad okay!" He confesses.

You heart sinks has the dark reality hits you like a ton of bricks.

"He... he gets mad sometimes..."JJ describes, looking anywhere but you. He begins to fidget with the hem of your shirt. When... When things weren’t good between us... I picked a fight with him. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I think I wanted it. At least then I could control the pain,” he explains, killing you.

You lean down and plant a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips. When you pull back, JJ stares at you, stunned by the action. You swallow hard as you slide down, keeping eye contact with him as you plant a kiss to his bruised peck. JJ’s heart begins to race as he watches you. You continue on your path to his multicolored rib. JJ’s hand brushes over the top of your head gently. Your fingers curl under the hem of his boxers as you leave a trail of kisses over his cut and bruised stomach.

"Y/N..." He breathes heavily as his eyes fall shut.

"Never again,” you tell him warningly as a demand. “You never go back there. Here, Kie's, Pope's, my place, anywhere else but there. Morning, noon, or night, you need a place, come to me. You hear me?"

JJ nods, too consumed in you to voice anything.

"I see marks like these on you again, I'll kill him and they won't find the body. I've seen enough crime documentaries. I can be like Liam Nison in Taken,” you joke slightly.

"I'm sure you could," JJ smirks, peering down at you.

You lift yourself up to hover just above his face. You cup his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, ever! You never have to suffer alone again. I promise. Your pain is my pain. Whatever you inflict on yourself you also do on me."

"I promise too. You're my world, Y/N,” he tells you and you know he means it. “You're my life now."

Suddenly, there's a ruckus coming from outside in the hall. The sound of the screen door slamming against the frame and shouting.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I’ll go get her! You stay here!” You hear John B yell.

“Like I’d listen to you!” Another voice barks.

You break from JJ, trying to listen. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he frowns, peering over at the door. He climbs off of you and slips out of the bed. He grabs a t-shirt from the chair in the corner and pulls it over his head, his boxers still slightly exposed.

“JJ, be careful!” You beg, worried that it could be someone looking for trouble.

"I will, Baby. It's okay," he promises, heading toward the door to check it out.

“Cool off Topper!” Pope shouts before you hear a bang.

“Topper?” You mumble in disbelief, flying off the bed and toward the door.

“Y/N!" JJ grabs your wrist as you open the door. "Baby, wait!”

Before he has the chance to stop you, you stumble into the hallway. JJ rushes out of the bedroom, nearly running into you. Standing at the end of it, in the archway of the living room, Topper turns his attention away from the Pogues. His eyes land on you and a wave of relief consumes him.

“Y/N...” Your name falls from his parted lips faintly.

“Topper...” You stand frozen.

“There is almost an equal Kook to Pogue ratio in this house and I don’t like it,” Pope huffs from behind Topper.

“I need to talk to you," the tall blonde announces urgently.

You speed walk down the hall, despite JJ's efforts to stop you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just... I... uh...” Topper stutters, nervously avoiding your gaze, and focuses on the small floor space between you.

“Have you been drinking again?" You question, coming to the conclusion he has. He smells of beer and weed, more than he did hours ago. "Did you go back to Kelce’s!”

“I was losing my mind, Y/N!" He bursts, uncharacteristically, causing you to jump and JJ to step forward toward you. "I needed a distraction, but nothing was working!” Topper explains in a rush, all fidgety. “Can we just go somewhere to talk?”

JJ immediately steps in, moving to stand between the two of you. “You’re not going anywhere with her!”

“Oh shove it,” Topper snaps at JJ.

“You forget you’re on my side of the island, Kook!” JJ barks, shoving Topper in the chest.

“Enough!” You scream, pressing a palm to each of their chests. “For Pete’s sake!”

“Back off JJ!” Kiara yells.

“I just need to talk to you,” Topper pants.

You exhale deeply, glancing between JJ and Topper. You know JJ won't approve and won't allow it without a fight, but you agree to speak with Topper. “Okay, let’s go outside.”

JJ laughs, pacing around. “You can’t be serious-”

“Ten minutes!” You shout at him, escorting Topper toward the door.

“She sure told you,” Topper mocks JJ as he backs up to the exit.

“Oh shut up,” you grumble, urging Topper through the doorway leading to the front yard.

You and Topper settle down on the hammock, swinging back and forth on the edge, side by side. The sun has long since set and the lights in the large tree illuminate the yard. Unable to sit still, Topper rises from his spot and paces in front of you.

“What’s going on Topper?” You ask worriedly.

The boy stops, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck nervously. “I’m losing my mind, Y/N!" He finally breaks his silence. "I feel like there are weights strapped to me and I’m being pulled to the bottom of the ocean, struggling for air!” He rushes out in a pant. “I’ve been an arrogant ass and too scared to pay attention, but now I’m just scared and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you this now that I’ll never get a chance like this again!”

You stand, taking his hands in yours. "Just take a deep breath!"

He yanks his hands free of your hold, running his fingers through his hair as he paces away. "I'm about to be the most selfish person on the planet!"

“Topper, just say it! It can't be that bad!" You try to reassure him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing minute. You can only assume the worst.

“I love you!” Topper bursts out, meeting your gaze pleadingly.

A weight lifts off your shoulder. You thought it was something bad. “That's it? I love you too,” you laugh lightly.

“No!" He stops you. "Not the way you mean it... it’s not the same! I love you!”

Neither of you notice the Pogues hiding in the enclosed patio, watching everything go down.

“I knew it!” Pope announces from his spot by the window.

“Pay up!” Kiara holds out her hand to John B.

JJ's heart sinks when he hears the confession leave Topper. He wants to run for the hills, but he can't help but observe you stand there in shock.

Topper's chest rises and falls rapidly. “I didn’t realize it fully until I dropped you off and saw you with him. I know what I said earlier, that I’m okay with this!" The words fly out of him like a freight train going full speed. “But I’m not! I’ve been in love with you for two years! Before Sarah, during Sarah, after her!”

“Okay ouch...” Sarah mumbles from her spot on the patio.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I’ve just been too caught up in everything else to notice!" Topper's voice cracks with emotion.

"You tell me this now!" You shout, growing more frustrated with each passing second.

He sighs, "I know, I know, I'm sorry-"

"No! You don't get to apologize!" You snap at him, utterly pissed off and frankly hurt. "You could've had me! You had me, Topper!" You correct as your eyes begin to swell with tears. "You had every opportunity to change the status quo and you didn't! You let me feel like a toy, there to satisfy you when you needed company! Yes, it was fun! Yes, it was great sex! Yes, I fed into the holding and touching, even when you and Sarah were on a break because I thought..." You swallow hard, processing what you're about to say. "Because I thought that eventually, you'd love me!" You break, tears falling down your cheeks. You finally let go of a truth you've been holding in for years now. "If I kept sleeping with you that one day you'd realize that we were more than just friends! Everyone else thought it! But you were caught up on Sarah and then it became not letting Sarah be with John B! I had to break it off after Bermuda because it was killing me! I couldn't take it anymore! I had to begin to move on!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot!" Topper rushes up to you, taking your hands in his pleadingly. "Tonight, feeling you again, I saw the rest of our lives and I want it! I don’t give a shit about our friends or golfing or the Club or Sarah because none of it matters if I don’t get to experience it with you!” He begs, “so pick me! Be with me! Love me!”

You whimper, unsure of what to do or say. Everything is happening so fast.

"You slept with him?"

You turn over your shoulder to find JJ standing just a few feet away. His eyes glisten under the lights of the tree. He swallows hard, taking your silence as enough of an answer. He nods his head, pressing his lips together to hold back his emotions.

“You’re exactly as everyone says!” He yells, pointing at you aggressively.

In a second, he's sprinting away down the gravel drive. You step forward, ready to run after him, but Topper grabs your wrist.

"Y/N, don't!" He pleads.

You yank your wrist free, before running him. "JJ!" You call, "JJ wait!"

"Y/N!" Topper shouts, running after you.

"JJ!" You beg for him to stop.

"Y/N, wait!" Topper grunts, sprinting.

"JJ!" You struggle to keep up with the boy. Soon, he disappears into the dark woods across the street and you have no choice but to halt, losing all hope.

You fall to your knees on the gravel. The sound of Topper's feet hitting the gravel quickly approaching. You slam your fists to the ground with a scream, hitting your boiling point. How much is a girl expected to take?

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

103 notes · View notes

miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Only One Rule

A/N- a little bit late but I still have some valentine's Day one shots I wanted to do 🙈

Can you tell big, manly, dominant men are my kink? ✨ 🥵🥵

Summary- You and your best guy friend are single and decide to have an Anti-Valentines day night together watching horror movies, there's only one rule - NO mention of ANYTHING romantic. You get scared and one things leads to another...

Pairing- Thor x you

Word count- 2,260

Warnings- Swearing, smut

18+ only

Posted: 18th February 2021

Valentine's One-Shot Masterlist

"If you're coming over tonight, there's only one rule - NO romance what so ever and I know that's going to be so hard for you because you're all chivalrous and old fashioned but that's the deal, ok?" You said to Thor through the phone, trying to make plans for the night. It was Valentine's Day and you were pathetically single, luckily for you, so was Thor. It had been your idea to have an Anti-Valentines night with your best friend, the last thing you needed was to be reminded that people are actually in love.

"What are you talking about Y/N?"

"Like no romance at all, no romantic movies, no describing women in a poetic way and even no holding doors open for me. Basically just don't be you for the night."

"You want me to be somebody else?" You're confusing his poor ditzy brain.

"Right, you know that show we watched together - Sons of Anarchy?" You ask.

"Yes, the one with the bikers" you can practically hear the cogs turning in his brain.

"Yeah... be like him, the main guy"

"You want me to treat you like a whore and call you bitch?" Wow! Why did those words coming from Thor's lips, make your pussy flutter?

"Well not exactly but that's better than being all mushy" you were thankful he was on the other end of the phone because you were sure your cheeks were glowing, bright red.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about but I'll see you tonight" he hung up the phone before you could protest anymore.

Now all you had to do was spend the day avoiding anything love related, which meant you couldn't leave the house. If you did you'd be surrounded by couples, kissing and holding hands. Bleugh, thinking about it was enough to make you sick.

You spent the day picking out horror movies you could watch, preparing snacks and getting yourself ready. Just because you were anti-love didn't mean you couldn't look your best. You convinced yourself you were dressing up because you had nothing better to do, it's not like it's a date or anything, is it? You pondered the thought, he's your best friend, no definitely not a date.

*****************

Shaking the curls loose from your head and running your fingers through them, you stood up to check yourself out in the mirror.

The high-waisted leather look trousers, with a deep plunge, black cami top didn't look too much did it? You turned around in the mirror, checking yourself at a different angle and completed the look with some red lipstick. Just as you began to doubt your outfit choice you heard the doorbell ring, too late now.

You couldn't help feeling nervous as you made your way to the door, to let Thor in. What the hell is going on with me?

Thor's jaw fell to the floor as you opened the door, looking you up and down as you stood in the doorway.

"Is there a change of plan? Are we going out?" He asked, still unable to pull his eyes away from your chest. You couldn't help feeling sexy as hell when he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Seriously, what the fuck is going on? He's your best friend, been your best friend since he came back to earth and you'd never had these sort of feelings for him before?

"Erm no. I just... Erm. We're watching horror movies I thought I'd dress as the queen of darkness" shrugging your shoulders sarcastically.

"If you wanted to be queen you..." Thor started before you cut him off mid-sentence.

"Ah Thor, stop! I know you was just about to say something romantic and you've barely walked through the door"

"Right sorry, whores and bitches. Got it... Is that the look you were going for?"

"Are you saying I look like a whore? I don't know whether to be proud or offended" you scoffed, pushing his tall frame into the room.

"No, no... I..."

"Relax I'm just fucking with ya" poor Thor, doesn't know if he's coming or going, you laugh under your breath, putting your hand over your mouth when he glares at you.

"Why don't you pick a movie while I order pizza?" You pass Thor the remote while you search through your phone for the number.

After a couple of minutes he turns to you, smiling widely "Right, I've chosen the movie"

You look up from your phone to see he'd chosen a forbidden chick flick.

"No way!'

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you" he laughs, proudly.

"Ohhh, touche." You say, laughing along with him.

************

The movie you'd chosen was ridiculously scary, you'd had to grab a cushion from behind you to use as a shield on the really jumpy parts. Thor had gotten himself comfy on the couch with his long legs stretched out and feet resting on the coffee table in front, along with the snacks and pizza. His arm was stretched around the back of the couch, behind your head, his tall, thick physique making your couch look tiny and giving you no option but to snuggle up closely to him.

"Argh!" You scream at another jump scare, throwing yourself into Thor's side and hiding your face into his chest. Wow does he always smell this good? You sneaked a peek at him through your eyelashes and found him contently watching you, making your stomach flip when you look into his deep, blue eyes.

You move away from him, trying to put as much distance between you as you can on this small couch. Your thighs are still touching and you can feel physical sparks from the contact, Thor smirks at you when he realises what you're doing.

"Y/N - "

"Nope, stop" you cut him off, knowing he's going to say something that's going to melt your heart and make you lose all your restraint.

"But - " He continues.

"Shh" you say pointing at the screen in front of you, pretending to watch but you can't stop your mind from racing. He's your best friend, you can't feel this way? Can you?

He puts his big hand on your thigh, shocking you when it makes your heart stop. You look down, staring at it, unsure of what to say. You can see he's watching you, more than he's watching the movie and it makes you squirm in your spot.

Oh fuck, why is he looking at me like that? Your heart is racing so fast.

From the corner of your eye, you can see he's moved so he's facing you and he's now making his way towards you.

"What are you - " his lips make contact with yours, stopping you mid-sentence, pushing you back so your laid on your couch and he's hovering above you.

"Thor I said no rom -"

"Just shut up for once, will you?" Oh fuck me! Your pussy clenches. You're weak, so fucking weak. You release a inhuman noise, somewhere between a whine and moan and it stirs an animalistic nature in Thor. You can actually see the switch in his eyes as they swirl with hunger.

"Open your legs" yes fucking sir! You do as you're told and he settles himself in-between them, eating you up with his eyes.

"Thor - "

"Seriously, shh. You've been such a brat all day and then I find you wearing this, I can't take much more" his words and deep tone of voice make you welp. He smiles darkly, knowing what he's doing to you. Is this really the Thor you know?

What have you created? Whatever it is, you fucking want it!

"Take off your trousers - " you start peeling them down immediately but he stops your hands midway " - No. slowly" he groans. Oh fuck!

Thor bites his bottom lip and groans loudly when he sees your black, lacey panties. Unable to keep up the slow pace, he hungrily grasps your mound in the palm of his hand.

"Mmm, so wet" he smirks. How is this even happening?

"Wait, Thor - " you stop him, just before he pulled down your panties, his fingers hooked into either side.

"What now?" He sighs, exasperated.

"Only one rule -" he cuts you off, too eager to get started.

"Yes, yes, yes. No romance, I get it. I can fuck you without being romantic" he says gruffly. oh my dear fucking lord! Yes please! He rips your panties as he's pulling them down and flings them off to the side with a grunt, his strength and eagerness betraying him.

He kneels up inbetween your thighs, circling your clit with his thumb while he watches you intently, squirming beneath him. When he sees your stomach clench, he stops rubbing, making you moan loudly.

"If you don't like it, then why are you moaning?" He whispers into your ear. Oh god! You want to grab him but he's pinning you in place with his thick thighs.

"I didn't say I didnt like - " he didn't wait for you to finish before he buried his face between your legs " - ah fuck Thor" lapping at your wetness with his thick fucking tongue. Your body jerks as he repeatedly circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. It's truly agonisingly pleasurable, desperately pushing yourself up into his mouth.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking good" he says stopping to look up at you, his mouth glistening with your juices before he dives straight back in, making you writhe and moan.

"Oh god Thor, I can't take anymore" you scream as your legs begin shaking uncontrollably and your body turns ridgid as you gush all over his mouth.

"Mmm" he says while still pressing his lips to you, the sound vibrating your already swollen, aching clit making you release another orgasm. You still haven't recovered from the first and the whole room spins around you as you come down from the high, a ringing reverberating in your ears. Thor still sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue flicks up and down relentlessly.

"I can't... Ah fuck. Pleaseee" you plead, unable to take much more of the unforgiving pleasure coursing through your core.

He moves his mouth away but replaces his lips with his thick fingers, so you only have seconds to breathe before your holding your breath again. Desperately grasping at the sofa cushions to brace yourself.

"Tell me" he says breathlessly, his hair tousled from your fingers.

"I... I -" you can't speak, you don't even know what day it is. Locked in a neverending loop of pure hedonism.

"I won't stop until you tell me what you want" he curls his fingers up to meet your spot, gazing in your eyes as he continually finger bangs you until you're gushing over his fingers. Melting into the couch with the euphoric rapture of yet another orgasm. Mewling beneath him as you unspeakably beg him for his cock without actually being able to speak out loud.

"Fuck... Me" you force out between breaths making him smile wickedly. All you can do is lay there and watch as he pulls his trousers over his cheeks, just until his cock is free. Before you can even take in the sight of his huge cock, he's slamming you into oblivion.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his back, pushing him impossibly deeper into you, with your feet. You watch his face screw as your walls clamp around his cock like a vice, groaning in your ear as he slams into you over and over again.

You've never felt pleasure like this before, the whole thing has felt like one giant orgasm from start to finish. You don't ever want it to end, his narcotic power over you. The way he can make you feel like a goddess but weak at the same time.

You roll your hips, bringing them up to meet his thrusts at a unbelievable pace. You can feel the gripping sensation rising through your veins again as you come harder than ever before, screaming at the same time. Thor looks at you, checking you're ok before he carries on the onslaught. You're an absolute quivering wreck and you don't know how you can take much more without shattering into a million pieces.

"You good?" He whispers in your ear, slowing down the pace ever so slightly.

"Hmm, kiss me." he smiles before kissing you tenderly, opening your mouth with his lips so he can find your tongue. You hold on to his back while he fucks you gently, a much softer, forgiving pace.

"I thought you said no romance?" You feel him smile on your lips, while you roll your hips into his, matching his pace.

He moves the hair from your face and holds your head in his hands, his forehead resting on yours.

"Look at me" he continues thrusting in to you while you gaze into each others eyes. The look of lust you see there, making your orgasm build again. You can feel his cock twitching when he's almost ready, grunting with the last of his thrusts. You can feel the power of his come as he pumps into you, then falls limply on your chest. You're both panting loudly as you wait for your climaxes to pass, your chests rising and falling so fast. He rests himself between your legs, trying not to put all of his weight on to you, waiting for you to recover in a comfortable silence.

"Well that escalated quickly" you say, laughing nervously, hoping that this wasn't going to make things awkward between you now.

"I'm not finished with you yet" or maybe it's just the start of a whole new relationship dynamic, one you were more than happy to pursue after that performance.

#thor odinson #thor x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor #mcu smut #smut

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f1nalboys · 3 years

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Six

you and michael talk about what had happened at the cave

chapter five

chapter seven

WORD COUNT: 1503

WARNINGS: drama, alcohol, just michael being sad

You leave the car, following after Michael as you wipe at your nose with your sleeve. The house was empty, Sam and his mom at the boardwalk and his grandpa god knows where, so he sits you down in the living room. You try your hardest to ignore the deer heads staring down at you on the wall.

You sit, legs folded under you, as Michael walks into the kitchen. He comes out holding a glass of water and a box of tissues and you smile despite how fucking awful you’re feeling. He sits beside you, one leg under him and the other on the floor, and he waits. You take a sip of water and start from the beginning.

“Star and I were watching a movie and we got to talking about everything. David seems to have caught on to our, uh, plan, but Star doesn’t believe it one bit, which is good. She was mad at him for being an asshole,” Michael interrupts you with a snort. David being an asshole? Shocking.

“I know, I did the same thing when she told me that. But the guys came back and David looked… He looked sad. Like he looked fucking awful and it’s because he felt bad about hurting her. He apologized to her. A genuine apology that she didn't have to force out of him.”

He nods and it’s obvious he doesn’t understand how that means David never loved you. “So… what happened after that? Did you and he argue or something?”

Shaking your head you sigh, leaning your head against the couch. “No. It’s just that throughout our entire relationship he never once gave me an apology like that. It was either because he wanted to have sex, or because I wanted an apology, or because he was sick of us not talking. He never said sorry because he meant it. That’s how I know he never loved me, not really.”

“Oh.” You can’t help but laugh at Michaels reaction. He was flushing red, embarrassed by it but you agree. Oh. That really encapsulates the feeling of this fucking mess. “Sorry, I’ve just… I’m not really sure how to react. I will say that he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met if that’s true.”

What an understatement. For a moment you sit, staring at Michael, searching his face for something. An answer, some advice, maybe even a joke. You know it’s not fair of you to ask that of him but you couldn’t help it. He diverts his eyes from yours, rubbing the back of his neck as he grabs the remote off of the coffee table. “You wanna watch TV?”

“Yeah, sure.” He turns it on, flipping through the channels before landing on a rerun of 21 Jump Street. He sits back, giving you an awkward smile before turning his attention to the show. The two of you sit in silence, watching as Johnny Depp dominates the screen when Michael coughs. “Uhm, can I… did Star say anything about me?”

You nod your head slowly. You’re not sure he’s going to take it well. “She asked how you were doing and I told her that it was rough the first day but you were getting better. She wanted to know if you were mad at her and I said no. And, uh,” You laugh awkwardly, turning your attention to the couch. “She said she thought we’d make a good couple.”

Michael doesn’t respond. You glance up and see a storm raging behind his eyes. Uh oh. “I am mad at her, Y/N. I’m pissed. I thought we were doing good, that something was going to happen with us and then she dumps me for fucking David. It’s like she completely forgot about what it was like being with me.”

“Mike, come on-”

“No!” He stands up suddenly, his face twisting in anger. All you can do is stare at him; you’ve never seen Michael angry before. “You should’ve told her the truth! That I fucking hate her!” He stomps away from you back into the kitchen and for a second you consider leaving him alone, getting into your car and driving somewhere else. And then you hear the sound of him drinking and the smell of liquor wafts towards you and you abandon those thoughts.

Standing up you make it to the kitchen, standing in the doorway as you watch him. He had a bottle of whiskey and he kept taking large sips. “Michael, put the fucking drink down.” You say, your arms crossing over your chest. You remember how drunk he had been not even 24 hours ago and you didn’t want a repeat of it. He laughs harshly, turning to face you with a scowl.

“Why? You think me not drinking is gonna help in any goddamn way? It won’t. In fact, being sober is going to make the fact that the person I fell in love with left me for someone else.” His eyes widen as the words leave his mouth and he sighs, taking another swig from the bottle before twisting the cap back on. You watch as he rests his palms on the counter, squeezing his eyes shut.

You walk over slowly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and he immediately sinks into you. You hold him as he cries, moving so your back was against the counter and he was in front of you, arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder. You rock him a bit, running your hand up and down his back. Fuck.

He was in love with her. He loved her and he was watching her with someone else. “Sorry. I got your shoulder wet.” He says, pulling back and sniffling. You glance at your shoulder and laugh at the giant wet spot, waving him off. Your hands were on his shoulders and you squeeze him.

“Don’t apologize. Like I’ve never dealt with snot and tears before.” He gives you a half smile, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “C’mon, let's sit down again.” He lets you lead him into the living room, sitting down next to you closely. He was staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?”

He flushes, shaking his head. “Sorry. Just… thinking. I think the whiskey’s starting to get to me,” You laugh at him and he punches you in the shoulder gently.

“I figured. You did drink a shit ton. You’re gonna feel it in the morning.” He groans, clearly having forgotten about the potential hangover. Sighing, he looks back over to you, a sad look on his face. You wait for him to speak.

“I don’t hate her.” He whispers, tugging at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows. “Star, I mean. I want to but I don’t. I can’t blame her, I mean David’s… cool. I don’t see the appeal personally but I can understand why she did.”

You grab ahold of his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Stop that. You didn’t deserve that, alright? You’re allowed to be upset, and angry, and pissed off. It was unfair. I love Star, I do, but if she couldn’t see how awesome you are and how lucky she was to have you, then that’s her loss.”

Your voice was firm. He stares at you, trying to figure out if you were serious. You absolutely were. With the time you’ve spent with Michael these last two days you have really started to like him. He was sweet, funny, kind, and he was pretty damn cute too. Every time you saw Michael, all you could see was the fact that he and David were complete opposites.

Michael leans in, his eyes on your lips. You sit there, completely fucking shocked, as if he were in slow motion, unsure if this was actually fucking happening. It wasn’t until you felt his lips touch yours that you reacted. You pulled your head back immediately, your eyes wide because what the fuck?

His eyes open and he flushes red, moving away from you completely. He forces out an awkward laugh. “S-sorry. Must’ve been the whiskey, you know? Uhm… I should probably head off to bed. Thanks for helping me and everything these last couple days.” He stands up quickly, not allowing you time to respond.

All you can do is stand up and follow behind him, keeping some distance. He opens the front door for you, moving to the side to let you through. “Bye.” Is the only thing you can muster up the courage to say. He nods, shutting the door behind you. You get inside your car, turning it on and sitting.

The kiss was replaying in your head, the memory of how your heartbeat speed up when he leaned in. How he looked at your lips, how soft his lips had been when they brushed against yours, how his hand had squeezed yours the second he had kissed you.

“What the fuck…”

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Note

CHLOE MY LOVE! congrats on 4.6k -- honestly not sure how you don't have a million more followers because your blog and your writing is freaking brilliant! so happy to have formed a genuine friendship with you :') brb getting emotional. anyway! for your event, could you write a little something with my love george with a few different prompts? is that allowed? 3 and 8 from angst, 10 from fluff? who's surprised, i'm all fluff, congrats again my darling you deserve it all x

thank you so so much angel!! 💕 of course i decided i had to do a fake dating drabble for you erica, i got v carried away with it too so hope you like a super long drabble that turned into practically a whole fic - enjoy! ❤️

theweasleysredhair’s 4.6k follower event!

3. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

8. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

10. “Because I love you.”

~~~

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 1884

WARNING: there’s no ‘read more’ bc i’m on mobile and couldn’t get it to work hahaha i apologise

Taglist: @dreamer821 @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @besitos-41 @heart-of-tempered-steel @andineversawyoucoming @mytreec | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit goes to whoever made it

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“I need you to date me.”

In shock, you dropped too many of the porcupine quills into your potion, making the liquid turn a nasty shade of green and sizzle as it practically exploded across the table. You sighed frustratedly, grabbing your wand and cleaning up the potion before turning to the person who spoke - one half of the Weasley twins and one of your best friends, George Weasley - who apparently found your reaction extremely amusing.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. The hint of a smile was still etched onto his face as he leaned forward, “I need you to date me.”

You felt yourself grow warm at the thought, “You’re joking, right?” “For once, I am not,” he shook his head, “I um, I told this girl I couldn’t go to the Yule Ball with her because I had a girlfriend who I’m going with instead. Except, I don’t have a girlfriend. So you can see my dilemma.”

“This may be a stupid question but... if you don’t have a girlfriend, why did you tell her you do?” You raised an eyebrow, half curious, half amused.

“I didn’t want to be rude and just tell her no because she was really sweet. So now I need to find someone to date me, and I thought of you,” he explained with a shrug, playing with some of the potion ingredients you’d left at the end of your table.

“There are so many other girls you could have-“

“I don’t want anyone else, I want you,” he said almost desperately, before sighing downheartedly, “C’mon, it wouldn’t be so bad, and it wouldn’t have to be for long! Just until the Yule Ball. It’s not like we’d have to pretend that much! I spend most of my free time with you as it is.”

“How do you know I don’t already have a date, huh?” You asked, beginning to start your potion all over again before Snape got the chance to scold you.

George’s face dropped and his jaw clenched, “What do you mean? Who asked you?”

“Well, no one. But my point was, what if they had?”

“Then you’d tell them you’ve been given a better option - me - and that they were never good enough for you. You know, the truth,” he nodded triumphantly, running a hand through his hair.

You shook your head at him with a smile, glancing up at him before your gaze travelled back to your potion.

“So what do you say?”

You pondered it for a moment, before replying, “Fine.”

George broke out into a large grin, wrapping his arms around you and very nearly swinging you around the room in excitement, “Darling, you are the best! I owe you big time!”

“Yes, you do. Now, do we have any rules we need to discuss?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, a backstory, how we got together, how far we’d go with PDA - I vote not too far if I’m honest,” you said nervously, toying with the hem of your jumper.

“Well I vote the opposite, I think we should have lots of PDA constantly, all the time!”

“George,” you said warningly, though you couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile.

“Fine,” he dragged out the last syllable, “I can only think of one rule. A very important rule that I’m sure you might have a hard time not breaking.”

“Go on?”

“Whatever you do, don’t fall in love with me!” His eyes widened dramatically as he pointed at you. “No chance of that happening, don’t you worry,” you laughed, stirring the potion.

“Well that was rude of you,” he said in mock hurt, a hand on his heart as he pouted at you. You cracked a smile and shook your head, “Oh be quiet will you, and pass me the rest of those porcupine quills, I have to finish redoing this potion that you made me ruin.”

“Nagging me already,” George mumbled, “We really are a couple.”

***

You realised pretty quickly that you were wrong about there being no chance of falling for George. So very wrong. Turns out the chances of falling for George Weasley were 100%, because somewhere between being his friend and being more, you fell head over heels in love with him.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d had feelings for him before the whole fake-dating, but figured you’d mistaken them for feelings of strong friendship.

Now you knew - you didn’t want to be his friend, you wanted him to snog you against a wall as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

And all of this was because of one simple kiss. You hadn’t expected it, didn’t know it was going to happen. All you knew was that one minute you were walking down the hallway with George’s arm around your shoulder - not even for show, really, he just walked with you like that anyway - and the next, your back was against a pillar, your eyes widening as you stared up at George, feeling yourself growing warm.

“W-What’s going on?” You stammered out, heart pounding as you lost yourself in his brown eyes, suddenly getting the urge to run your hand through his ginger hair and pull him by his tie down into a kiss.

“She’s watching,” he murmured, nodding subtly down to the end of the hallway. You couldn’t see anyone, but took his word for it as you figured you were just overwhelmingly flustered from the proximity.

And suddenly you realised what position you were in: his hands either side of your head, trapping you between his chest and the pillar, your own chest barely an inch away from him and his legs brushing against your own.

Your breath hitched in your mouth, noticing how his eyes flickered from your eyes down to your mouth before moving back up again. Your lips parted a little, chin tilting ever-so-slightly upwards as you waited to see what he’d do.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and suddenly his lips were on yours, pulling you into a desperate kiss, him cupping your cheek to bring you closer, his other hand sliding down the pillar to grab your waist.

This wasn’t a kiss from someone who was just a friend. This was a kiss that made your toes curl, set your skin on fire and made you want more - so much more.

And in that moment you realised you loved him. You didn’t want to go back to being George’s friend, not when you knew how his lips felt against yours, how his hands felt holding your waist.

He’d finally pulled away for air, still pressing shorter kisses to your lips as you both breathed heavily, and you dragged a hand through his hair, just how you’d imagined.

You knew, right then, that you were in love with him. All of a sudden, and very very full on.

After that, you suddenly noticed and admired everything about him, from the way he laughed to the way he bit his lip as he glanced your way.

And the thought of breaking this whole dating thing off - something that you’d both planned to happen the day after the Yule Ball - made you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of never kissing him again made you want to scream.

You couldn’t imagine going back to being friends. Not when you’d had a taster of what it was like to be George Weasley’s girlfriend.

You argued with yourself, one half of you wanting to end it with him now in order to save yourself further heartbreak, and the other half wanting to continue for as long as possible. It was all you could think about, from the moment you woke up in the morning to the moment you went to sleep at night. And you decided you couldn’t keep going like this, it wasn’t fair to you.

You couldn’t keep pretending you weren’t in love with the ginger boy.

And so, when you found yourself sat in his common room late one night two weeks after that first fateful kiss, sharing one of the red plush couches with him, his leg pressed next to yours and your heart racing, the rest of the students already in their dorms, you decided to be honest with him.

“George?”

“Yes?” George waited for your reply, however at the silence, he looked up curiously, finding you chewing on your lip in thought.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, concern seeping into his voice as he looked at you, noticing how restless you appeared, how lost in thought.

“I um.. yes? I mean no,” you frowned, “I mean- I don’t know.”

He shifted, his body tilting towards yours and he grabbed your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips so he could press a kiss to you knuckles, “What’s wrong, what’s going on?”

“I can’t pretend anymore, Georgie,” you whispered, afraid if you spoke any louder your voice would fail you.

“What do you mean, you can’t pretend? You’re scaring me, princess, please tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours,” he frowned, hating the idea of anything even remotely bothering you.

“I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend anymore.”

And suddenly George felt like he’d been winded, a pain in his chest he could only liken to heartbreak, if he was to be so dramatic.

“What?” His voice was small, especially in the silent room. He wanted to know why. Had he done something wrong? Made you feel uncomfortable at one point? He’d hate himself if he had.

“I can’t pretend because- because I fell in love with you,” you breathed out, lips trembling as you stared at your clasped hands, “This isn’t pretend for me anymore, this is real! And it’s scary, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

There was a silence and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not wanting to see the look on his face as he tried to come up with, you presumed, a way to reject you.

“You wanna know why I asked you to be my fake girlfriend?” He asked suddenly, squeezing your hands and waiting for you to nod slightly at him, before continuing, “Because I wanted a reason to ask you to the Yule Ball without being rejected. Because I wanted to spend even more time with you, to have a glimpse at what it would be like to date you. Because-because I love you.”

Your felt your heart skip a beat as you finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he smiled at you.

“You love me?” You whispered.

“Always have, I reckon.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you allowed him to pull you closer to him, “Well I guess it’s definitely a good job I fell for you, huh?”

He grinned cheekily, biting his lip as he replied jokingly, “Well, I don’t know really, I mean, I thought I told you not to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, well,” you spoke, letting a soft smile creep onto your face,

“As it turns out, I just couldn’t help myself.”

#4.6k follower drabble event #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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